


The Howard Moon Anachronism

by rog



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Murder, Angst, Dissociation, M/M, Slow Burn, dark Howard, well I say that but it’s mostly canon!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:47:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24108463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rog/pseuds/rog
Summary: “It’s like… there’s this whole life in front of you. A human person. Someone who has done countless things, loved people, hurt people, just… existed. And you stand there, and you take it all away. The… the power you hold over someone. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.”
Relationships: Howard Moon/Vince Noir
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	The Howard Moon Anachronism

**Author's Note:**

> hello!
> 
> this story is... a bit dark. so... be warned. 
> 
> I started uploading this one chapter by chapter earlier but decided to delete it instead, because I think it works better as one big story. I also edited it a LOT, so it's very different from what it first was, but you might recognize some stuff. The movie mentioned at one point, _The Betrayed_ , is a real movie from 1992 that I recommend watching if you manage to find it subbed.
> 
> Massive shoutout to all of my friends who kept me sane while I was writing this, and everyone who encouraged me. It truly means a lot. I hope everyone enjoys this story.

_It was a rainy night in Dalston, England. A man was drunk, walking out of his pub, on his way home to his wife. She would be mad at him again, he was certain of it. She never liked him being out late. ‘Darling,’ she’d always say, ‘I don’t want you to get kidnapped.’ And her pretty face frowning did always make him sad. But on the other hand, it was always too much fun. There was always something- football was on, the boys were playing darts, or someone kept buying rounds- and who says no to a free round? Besides, why in the hell would someone kidnap him of all people?_

_The man felt himself getting nauseous, sick bubbling up in his throat. He shuffled into an alleyway and stood with his head towards the wall for a moment, trying to see if he’d puke or not. Cold sweat ran over his bald head, but he managed to keep it in. A bit more carefully, he looked around to see where he was. He didn’t recognize the alleyway he was in, but he had to be close to home. He supposed he’d walk to the next street, and find his way from there._

_“Hello handsome.” a voice said._

_The man swiveled around, trying to find out who had said it. There, a few street lights away from him, stood a woman. She was standing in between the lights, so all he really saw was a silhouette, clad in a short dress and high heels. But he could already tell she was tall and gorgeous._

_“What was that love? Didn’t catch it completely.” the man stammered, the many free rounds of the night clearly taking their toll on his ability to speak coherently. The woman giggled, a sensual, low giggle that seemed to reverberate through the man’s bones. “I said, hello handsome.”_

_Distantly, the man knew he was married, and he shouldn’t be conversing with anyone in any flirtatious manner at all. On the other hand, however, the woman was now approaching him, the click-clacking of her heels echoing through the alleyway. She swung her hips in a way his wife hadn’t done in years._

_“What’s a n-nice girl like you doin’ out this late at night? Shouldn’t you be at home with your boyfriend?” the man asked, grinning weakly. The woman was now right in front of him, but due to the light right behind her back, he still couldn’t see her face. He could see her hair now, though, long and dark, twisted into soft curls._

_“My boyfriend doesn’t treat me right.” the woman said, sounding simultaneously sad and flirtatious. She was holding a handbag, which she was taking something out of. A handkerchief, to dry her tears with. She took a step forward. “Would you treat me right, sir?”_

_The man gasped, backing up against the wall on impulse. He really shouldn’t be doing this. But a pretty young girl like her, offering herself up to an old man like him?  
“Y-Yes.” he spoke, his voice rattling. “I’ll… I’ll buy you a drink. Pretty thing like you deserves to be spoiled.”  
The woman giggled lowly again. “That’s right. I don’t get spoiled nearly enough. But my boyfriend’s gonna spoil me so much when he sees this.”_

_“Sees what?” the man asked, mind reeling. The woman pressed her handkerchief against his face, covering his nose and mouth. It smelled like chemicals so strongly he started heaving. He tried to struggle, but he felt himself getting weaker, and slid down the wall. As he fell, the last thing he saw was the full moon, eclipsed by the woman’s head as she peered down at him.  
But then he closed his eyes, and everything was gone._

* * *

Vince Noir was standing behind the till at the Nabootique, the store he worked at together with some of his friends. Naboo was the owner, obviously, and then there was his best mate Howard, who he usually shared shifts with. Today, though, he was on his own, as Howard was at his Jazzercise class. Vince already couldn’t wait for him to come back, as it was well fun to make fun of him about it.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the only reason he couldn’t wait for Howard to come back. It was always more fun when Howard was around. Nobody ever came to the store anyways, so they would talk about anything and everything, or they’d sing together. Sometimes Howard would read to him. Vince always acted like he was annoyed about it, but in reality he kind of liked it. Howard had one of those voices, smooth like peanut butter. And not the type with bits of peanut, either. The actually smooth kind.

Vince heard the bell above the door jingle and looked up from his fashion magazine, assuming it would be Howard standing in front of him. Instead it was two people, a man and a woman he’d never seen before in his life. They looked way too posh for this neighborhood in general, with their fancy suits, looking like businessmen. He wondered why they were there. Maybe… maybe he’d been discovered! Maybe this was his big break. Some photographer or fashion designer must’ve seen him on the street and immediately become obsessed with him. And now these two had been sent to come present him with a contract.

“Hiya, what can I do for you?” he asked, smiling brightly. He had to make a good first impression, after all. Neither of the people returned his smile. Made sense, though. People in the fashion industry never seemed to smile. It was like they were above it, or something. Vince didn’t get it, but he thought it was all well interesting.

“Are you Vince Noir?” the woman asked. Vince’s eyes widened. Surely, this had to be it! How else would they know his name?

“Yeah, that’s me. What’s up?” he asked. He looked at the man who had entered with the woman. The man was looking at everything in the store intently, like he was looking for something. Vince didn’t have a clue what someone would be looking for in their store, though. Everything they sold was either weird, old trash, jazz music or Naboo’s weird shaman stuff.

“Are you acquainted with Howard Moon?” the woman asked. Now it had truly turned into a head-scratcher. He’d understand if they were looking for him. But Howard? Who would willingly look for Howard? No offense to him, but he didn’t exactly have a striking face. He kind of looked like a pink balloon. Why anyone would want to hire him as a model was beyond him, safe for if they were from some kind of jazz magazine, or something.

“Yeah, I’m his best mate. He’s not in right now, though. Why’re you lookin’ for him?” Vince asked. The man had now started going through every single record in their record bin. Distantly, Vince wondered if the man was perhaps looking for Howard in there. That, in turn, made him laugh, because there was no way Howard would fit in there.

The woman looked at him weird, probably because he’d spontaneously burst out in giggles. She looked at the man, and then back at him. “That’s classified information. I’m not allowed to tell you at this time.”  
“Alright, well, no worries. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help, I s’pose.” Vince said. The woman pouted a bit. She nodded at the man, and he opened the door, and held it open for the woman as they both walked out.

After the people left, Vince heard someone walk downstairs from the apartment above the shop. It was Naboo, who usually wasn’t awake yet at this time. He looked worried. Maybe one of his shaman potions had gone gravely wrong, and he needed help fixing it, or something.

“Vince? Where’s Howard?” Naboo asked. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He also didn’t have any shoes on.

“Why do people keep asking me where Howard is?” Vince asked. “I work here too, you know. I can help just as well as he can. Just tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”  
“I don’t need any help.” Naboo said, then frowned. “Wait, who was looking for Howard?”

“Some people, a man and a woman. They were wearing suits, like they were secret agents or something. I got a proper weird vibe from them.” Vince said. Naboo’s frown remained on his face for a few more seconds before he shrugged it off. “Is Howard still at Jazzercise?”

“Yeah, that’s always on from three to four.” Vince said a bit dejectedly, expecting Naboo to go back upstairs. But he didn’t. Instead, he nodded. “Good, we’ve still got time. Come upstairs with me for a bit.”

Naboo went to the front door and turned the open sign around. Vince followed him up the stairs. They walked past the living room into Naboo’s bedroom, where he had his crystal ball set up on his bed. He sat down next to it, and Vince sat down opposite from him, peering into the ball to see if he saw anything. He didn’t. That was probably something reserved for shamans.

“Vince.” Naboo began, “You know you’re like a brother to me, right?”

“Uh, sure, you’re like a brother to me too.” Vince said, even though he’d never really thought about it like that. Naboo nodded slowly and started moving his hands over the crystal ball until it changed colours.

It was like a light had gone on inside of it, and it projected a bright light blue light all over the room. It reflected in Naboo’s eyes, making him look like he was possessed. And when he spoke, he kind of sounded that way, too. “It’s about Howard. He’s been acting strangely lately. And I’m worried.”

Vince thought about it for a bit. Howard hadn’t seemed any different lately, to be honest. He’d always been a bit of a freak, with his music and his acting stuff, and the way he was so anal about putting pens back in the correct order. Vince wasn’t any more worried about him than he usually was. Just a bit of an underlying worry that he’d end up dead somewhere. Vince was always going to make it, he knew that. He always had some kind of gig lined up. Maybe not enough to buy himself a villa, but enough to last until the next gig. Howard didn’t have anything like that. All he did was sort things and go out for pints by himself. Like, who even does that?

“Why’re you worried?” Vince asked.

“He’s not as wound up as he usually is. Something’s wrong, Vince, I can feel it.”

Vince supposed Naboo had a point. Howard had been a bit easier to talk to lately. Even Vince’s scathing remarks didn’t return any reaction. Howard would sit back in his chair with his headphones on and listen to music, or he’d hum to himself while cleaning one of the displays. No matter how much Vince laughed at him, Howard just ignored it. “Okay, you’ve got a point. But are you sure we should be worried? I mean, what if he’s just becoming a normal person? Shouldn’t we be happy for him? Maybe throw him a party?”

“That’s not it.” Naboo said, sounding sad. He looked a bit dejected in general. Vince sighed. “C’mon, what’s the worst it can be? You know Howard. He wouldn’t do anything too weird. Not weirder than usual.”

“I’m not worried about him. I’m worried about you.” the crystal ball’s light went out and Naboo stared straight into his eyes. The eye contact was so sudden and intense it actually made Vince a bit uncomfortable. “Why me? You don’t think Howard’ll replace me or something, do you?”

“I’ve said too much already.” Naboo sighed. “I think it’s time for you to go downstairs.”

Vince frowned, but then shrugged. There wasn’t really much he could do. Naboo had his cryptic moods, sometimes. That was just part of what being a shaman was all about. It was a job consisting of performing magic for people, speaking in riddles and giving cryptic advice that ended up being really easy to understand when looking back on it. But only when looking back on it.

Back downstairs, Howard was inside already. The sign on the door was turned around again, and Howard was standing behind the till, softly singing jazz songs to himself. He looked a bit sweaty. He was wearing a hawaiian shirt and a matching hat. He looked proper ridiculous, but that was pretty much normal for him.

“Howard! There you are. Everyone was looking for you.” Vince exclaimed, plopping down in the big chair near the entrance. Howard looked up. “Hold on, you knew I was at jazzercise, right? Why didn’t you just tell them that?”

“I did! I just thought it was weird that they were looking for you, is all.”

“People have lots of reasons to look for me, Vince. I’m Howard Moon, the enigma. Nobody knows where I am, nobody knows what I do. Until I strike. And by then, it’s too late.” Howard said. He then added, “Who were ‘they’ anyway?”

“Some lady and some guy. And Naboo, but I think he was looking for me actually. I’m not sure.” Vince said. He grabbed a magazine from the table next to him. The front page had a picture of a man with bright pink hair on it, angrily staring into the camera. Also, apparently people had been going missing lately. Vince ignored it and looked at the pink haired guy again. “What do you mean you strike? What are you gonna do, aggressively blink at them with your little eyes?”

“Can you actually describe these people? Just ‘a lady’ and ‘some guy’ doesn’t really narrow it down, you know.” Howard said. He wiped some of the sweat from his brow.

“I don’t know. The woman was wearing a ponytail. The guy had… brown hair? I think? Anyways, they came in wearing these fancy suits, and they started questionin’ me about whether I knew you or not. And I said that I did, and asked why they wanted to know, and they were all like, ‘that’s classified information,’ and stuff.” Vince said. He looked over the top of his magazine to see Howard’s reaction.

Howard looked confused, and then worried. “Don’t talk to them again, alright little man?”

“Alright, but who were they?” Vince asked.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not sure myself, actually. But they don’t sound like people we want to be involved with. Next time they come in, just say the store is closed or something.” Howard said. He looked deep in thought. Vince continued looking at the pictures in the magazine. It wasn’t Howard who was acting weird, he decided. It was everybody else.

* * *

Howard left the store late at night. It was way past closing time anyways, but they’d sort of hung around the store anyways, after hearing Naboo and Bollo smashing what sounded like a whole bunch of glass upstairs. When Vince’d yelled up, asking what happened, Naboo yelled back shaman stuff, you wouldn’t understand and Vince was mostly just relieved that he didn’t have to help clear up.

“I’m going to Lester’s. Don’t wait up.” Howard said. Vince, upside-down in the big lounge chair, frowned in a way that made his nose wrinkle up. “At nine in the evening?”

“Lester’s blind, he can’t tell whether it’s morning or evening.” Howard reasoned. Vince stared at him for a full three seconds before unwrinkling his nose. “Alright, that makes sense.”

He supposed it was only fair, as he himself had been spending a lot of evenings at the Velvet Onion, trying to sweet-talk Bob Fossil into giving them more gigs. Really, it was a shame, too, as he did have actual friends to hang out with. But Fossil was like a petulant child in a lot of ways, one of those ways being that he demanded constant attention. It was always ‘Vincey, come have drinks with me,’ or ‘Vince, my sweet prince, please call my mom and tell her I can’t come for supper.’ Little, annoying things like that. But they did always result in more gigs, which resulted in more confidence in Howard, which in turn resulted in more happy crimping around the store and general laid-backness. Oh, and the pocket change they received for it couldn’t hurt either, obviously.

“Are you going to be okay on your own? Planning on staying home?” Howard asked halfway through the door, like he’d only suddenly remembered he was supposed to care for his friend. Why was it any of Howard’s business whether he stayed home? “It’s evening, ‘Oward. Nobody’s gonna come in.”

“Alright, alright. I was just asking.” Howard said defensively, before finally moving through the door and outside. Inside, Vince slowly slid off the chair and onto the floor. He was in a bit of a rut. After those people had come to ask about Howard, it had been relatively quiet at the store. The only thing was that Howard was barely around anymore. First it was just jazzercise, which he could deal with. But nowadays, Howard spent almost every day at Lester Corncrake’s place, putting on man-corsets and doing funny little dances or whatever it was they did. Spending most of his time with an elderly man was a new low, even for Howard. Lester Corncrake was blind, senile, and his biggest hobbies included shouting random phrases as if they were ancient wise words and throwing darts everywhere except at the dart board. What was that phrase again- _I believe the elderly are our future?_ Or was that children?

He couldn’t go upstairs for at least another hour, because whatever Naboo spilled upstairs was apparently very poisonous for non-shamans. Or so he said. For all Vince knew, he and Bollo were upstairs getting blazed. But he didn’t want to risk it just in case.

He decided to go outside, ignoring Howard’s warnings. Well, warnings, more like orders. ‘Don’t go out at night, little man’ he’d said. Something about people disappearing in the neighborhood. Even going out with some mates was apparently too dangerous. To be honest, it felt kind of good that Howard was so protective over him. Vince decided he liked it. Not so much that he’d actually heed his warnings, though.

Outside, clad in a fluorescent jacket, he looked around. He hadn’t actually thought of a place to go yet. He could always ring up some mates, see if they wanted to go to a club or two, but he much preferred waiting until they called for him. When he’d explained this to Howard, Howard had said Vince was ‘creating artificial demand.’ Vince had no idea what that meant, but it sounded well fancy so he decided to continue doing it. Thankfully, some of his mates had indeed rung earlier, asking if he wanted to come to the Velvet Onion to watch some act about cups you could put in your pockets. So he followed that lead, so to speak, and ended up dancing with some nice girls with weirdly styled hair.

The atmosphere at the ol’ Onion was fun and all, but Vince didn’t want to come back too late, ‘cause he knew Howard would get well cross otherwise. That was the less-fun side of having someone be protective over you- the angry ranting. ‘How could you stay out so late without ringing first!’ and stuff along those lines. Made his roommate sound like a strict parent straight out of those shows on the telly they sometimes watched. Where the parents were so strict that some woman had to come to their house just to tell them to calm down.

He was only mildly sloshed by the time he started making his way home, honest. Bob Fossil had treated them both to Flirtini’s, and really, what was he supposed to do? Say no? Don’t be ridiculous. Actually, by the time Mr. Fossil had walked onto the dance floor most of his friends had left anyways, so it really was time to go.  
It was really dark out, and heavy clouds covered the moon, making it even darker. It was raining, and Vince could hear distant thunder. Thus, he crossed under the bridge, and took a shortcut through a small tunnel to avoid getting too soaked. Almost home, he waited until a particularly heavy gust of wind had subsided before running straight into an alleyway. It looked all grungy and gross, and kind of smelled of sick, too. It was lined with streetlights, but the light they gave off was so dim it barely made any difference. For the first hundred meters or so, there were houses on either side of the alleyway, but near the end one of the sides had entrances into some people’s back gardens.

Vince hid in his coat as much as he could. He usually never walked this way, but the alley did protect his hair from most of the rain, so there wasn’t really much else he could do. The bit with the back gardens always gave him the creeps, though. There were barely any hedges, so people could easily wait behind the houses there, and you wouldn’t be able to see them until you were right next to them. The closest you could get to a murderer without your eyes getting wet, or something.

Still, he wanted to get home without his hair turning into a right mess, so he stepped through, ignoring the nagging feeling he had that he was being watched. A few meters past the cut off from houses to gardens and he just had to satiate his curiosity- and turned around to face... Howard?

Howard went through a myriad of emotions in a few seconds. At first he looked so happy he was almost manic. Then, he looked confused. Then, angry. He looked around the alleyway and pulled Vince with him into the brush.

“I thought you were staying home!” Howard hissed. Vince frowned at him. “I was just going for a few drinks. What’s it to you? Why are you in an alleyway?”  
Howard gritted his teeth and looked so mad Vince almost backed away a bit. Then, he took a deep breath, and gave Vince his best calm expression. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Aw, c’mon! You can’t just leave me hangin’ like this!” Vince exclaimed. Howard shushed him immediately, and Vince noticed that he was wearing disposable gloves. “Come on, little man. Let’s go home.”

“You sure?” Vince asked in his best whisper, which was still pretty loud. Howard nodded, a bit dejectedly. Thunder struck again, this time much closer to them. “Yes. How about a night in, like we used to when we were younger. We can watch a movie?”

They hadn’t done that in ages. The past few months they’d both been busy with stuff. Vince with his friends, and his fashion design, and Howard with writing music and Lester Corncrake’s jazz club. They never really saw each other outside of the store, and they were coworkers there, so it didn’t really count. Besides all that, Howard’s proposal had sounded so timid, like he was scared Vince would say no to him again. Vince would properly feel bad if he said no, so he didn’t.

“Okay.” he was still whispering. Howard cracked a smile, and then helped him back out of the brush again. As they walked home, Vince momentarily scrutinized Howard’s outfit (wellies, disposable gloves and an apron? Really, what was he thinking?), but forgot about it almost immediately.

Inside, Howard went to have a shower while Vince got cozy on the couch with a blanket and a bowl of popcorn. Whatever Naboo and Bollo had done earlier had been cleared up by now, which gave Vince cause to believe that they had indeed been using the room above the store to get high. They had alcopops in the fridge, but those didn’t feel fitting for this particular night. Tea it was, then. Howard had a really specific way he wanted his tea made, so Vince was still messing around with a tea bag by the time Howard entered the room, freshly showered and in his pyjamas.

It was an old pair of pyjamas, something he’d owned as long as Vince could remember. Back before they knew Naboo, they were living together in a tiny little apartment, barely any possessions between the two of them. They would share the pyjamas. Vince got to have the bottoms, while Howard got the top. Sometimes they switched, depending on who was colder. Seeing them again now filled Vince with the bittersweet feeling of nostalgia. He and Howard used to be closer. Back in elementary school, through high school, they had pretty much spent every waking moment together, except maybe the singular week when Howard got delayed in the process of moving in with him. But now, they were both busy with other things. Vince had allowed himself to get swept up in a different crowd, and he was beginning to regret it. But in his defense, Howard was off with his friends all the time too.

Howard took one look at the cup of tea and sent Vince off to sit on the couch while he made himself a new cup. “Go choose a movie for us to watch. Just look through the recording list.”

Vince went through all of Howard’s TV recordings. There were a lot of old black and white movies, and some movies that sounded too boring by their title alone. Eventually he decided on some foreign movie called _‘The Betrayed_ ’, which Howard insisted was an underappreciated classic.

Howard settled next to him, and Vince started the recording. Howard was sitting next to him in the one nice corner of the couch, sharing a blanket with him. Howard was warm next to him, especially the hand that was holding the cup of tea. Vince slowly munched on his popcorn, but mostly just enjoyed the warmth, the polar opposite (ha) of the cold, rainy weather outside.

The movie was confusing. A man came home one day to find his wife cheating on him. Instead of confronting her, he waited for the perfect time to exact his revenge on her. One day, she was standing on a stepladder, fixing a light fixture, and her husband kicked the stepladder away from under her, making her fall. She saw that he did it, but he insisted it wasn’t him, and repeated it to her so often that she started to believe him.

“D’you think you could convince someone like that?” Vince asked. “Like, get all up in their mind ‘n stuff. And even though they saw something happen, they’ll think they didn’t, cos you told them they didn’t too many times.”

Howard seemed to think it over for a while. Meanwhile, the woman on the telly was being transported to the hospital. He finally shrugged. “I think I could.”

He said it with such conviction that it made Vince laugh. Howard frowned at him. “Don’t you think I could mindfreak someone like that? You underestimate my mind powers, little man. You have to have a strong mind if you want to escape from certain situations. For example, if I were to get captured by spies who force me to tell them something, I would be able to convince them that they had the wrong man.”

“That’s because they would have the wrong man.” Vince argued, laughing. “What have you ever done that would make spies want to interrogate you?”

“You don’t know what I’ve done, Vince. I’ve led a busy, adventurous life so far.” Howard said. Vince snorted. “When? We’ve spent our whole lives together. If you were having adventures, I would know.”

“Yes, that’s what you think. Because I’ve successfully mindfreaked you.” Howard boasted. Vince rolled his eyes. “No you haven’t, you freak. I’d know. I know everything about you.”

“Who is my favourite jazz musician?” Howard asked. Vince groaned. “That’s cheating, that is. Jazz? You know I’m allergic to jazz. It’s horrid.”

“It’s art.” Howard said. “You just don’t understand it.”

They squabbled back and forth for a while longer until Vince felt himself becoming tired. He was having a hard time reading along with the subtitles already, and those two Flirtini’s he’d had didn’t exactly help, either. Their nest of blankets on the couch was threatening to swallow him whole, the comforter slowly creeping into his field of vision until he couldn’t even see the top of the television screen. Howard was somewhere next to him, one arm on the back of the sofa. As the TV played dramatic choir music, Vince nestled into Howard’s side, his bony shoulders probably digging uncomfortably into Howard’s ribs. But Howard didn’t tell him to stop, so he didn’t.

* * *

_When the man woke up, he was in a barely lit room somewhere he didn’t recognize. He groaned, feeling the onset of a headache. He really had to stop getting so pissed every night._

_Where even was he? This wasn’t his room, nor was it the couch his wife always made him crash on. He tried to remember where he had been the past night, but he barely remembered anything. He’d gone out with some mates, football had been on, they kept buying him rounds…_

_A woman. There had been a woman. A beautiful woman, with black hair and high cheekbones. She’d worn this nice outfit too, as far as he remembered, a two piece dress, soft pink and pressed tightly against her skin. The white of her stomach glistening in the little bit of light the full moon gave off. A handbag, and her handkerchief pressed against his face._

_Wait, had she knocked him out? With chloro-whatever? Chlorine? Chloroform? Why? Distantly, the man felt like this was the world giving him a big dosage of karma. He’d gone and got seduced by some skank of the streets instead of staying home with his wife, and now he was in a room he didn’t recognize, laying on something that looked to be a large table._

_His hands were tied to the sides of the table with some kind of rope. He was free to move his legs, but was unable to in his inebriated state. His head was pounding, and sunlight was shining right onto his face from a tiny little window far above him. Was he in a basement, then? The room around him looked unfinished, with unpainted walls and a cement floor. There were a few posters on the walls, but other than that there was barely anything of note._

_Suddenly the man heard the noise of someone coming down the stairs. It sounded like high heels, the same the woman had been wearing. Was she coming down to free him, to chastise him about flirting with women other than his wife? Maybe the two of them were in this together, the whores. He’d always known there was something wrong with his wife. She was always so silent, always sitting at the dinner table doing her crosswords and cross-stitch. Always something cross-related. She had probably hired this woman to kidnap him, teach him a lesson and then release him back into the world, ashamed about what he did. Well, he wasn’t going to let that happen, not him! Or his name wasn’t-_

_The door opened, and the woman walked in. she had changed outfits again, now dressed in a sexualized nurse’s uniform. It was white, and short, only barely past her hips. It was low-cut, too, shaped like a cross, showing off her almost completely flat chest. She was holding a syringe in her hand, and had a tiny hat on top of her head, with, again, a red cross on it. When she entered, the man almost began whimpering, trying to get himself free. She smiled._

_“I know what yer doing, ya slag. All of you women, bonding together, trying to make me look like the bad guy. Well, I won’t have it.” he bit, trying to make his tone sound as vicious as possible. The woman furrowed her brow. He still had trouble looking at her face, with the sun still burning into his eyes, not to mention his pounding headache._

_“What the fuck are you talking about?” she asked. She stared at him for a few more seconds, before shrugging and continuing with what she was doing, which seemed to consist of tapping the syringe several times and looking at the movement of the liquid inside. Then, another pair of footsteps made its way downstairs, waking the woman from her apparent trance._

_Again, the light in his eyes stopped him from getting a clear view of any face, but whoever this man was, he and the woman appeared to be intimate. Maybe he was the doctor to the woman’s nurse, although his apron and disposable gloves didn’t exactly represent a doctor’s garb. The woman walked towards him and embraced him, kissing him on the cheek. The doctor took one look at the man lying on the table and clasped his hands together. “Oh, you’ve done beautifully.”_

_“What do you think of my look?” the woman crooned. The doctor looked her up and down and then pulled her against him, kissing her deeply. “You’re so beautiful.”_

_The man thrashed about on the table, flailing his legs about in an attempt to get free. He screamed, more out of exhaustion than anything. He didn’t know where this was all going, but he wanted out of there. “Fuckin’ fuckin’... Let me go already!”_

_The doctor and the woman stopped kissing for a moment, enough for the woman to lean down to look the man in the face. Afraid, he tried to back away, but there wasn’t much room for him to move. The woman tutted, and the man finally gathered the courage to meet her gaze._

* * *

Vince woke up alone on the couch, covered in multiple blankets. Something was in his field of vision, and when he groggily touched his forehead, he realized it was a sticky note.

‘Bob Fossil called’ it read in Howard’s somewhat messy handwriting. Vince groaned and stretched himself out, his toes tapping against the other end of the couch. Today was a weekday, as far as he knew, so Howard was probably downstairs, tending to the store. No reason to hurry, then. He yawned again, and walked towards the landline, sticky note still in his hand.

“Vincey!” Bob Fossil yelled, far too cheerful for this time of the day. Vince groaned. “What is it? Why’d you call us?”

“I have a spot for you and Howard tonight, if you’re interested.” Bob Fossil sing-songed. Vince frowned. “What’s the catch?”

“Nothing!” Fossil said slightly too fast, and then paused. “Okay, maybe I need a small favour. It’s about my mother. You know, the one who thinks I’m in ‘Nam?”

“Yeah?” Vince said, because he was fairly sure Fossil only had one mum. “What about her?”

“She needs groceries.” Fossil said. “You know, it’s been hailing, and she keeps asking me to come bring her groceries. But I’m in Vietnam.”

“You’re not in Vietnam.” Vince pointed out. “You’re pretending to be in Vietnam so you don’t have to do groceries for her.”

“Shut up!” Fossil whined. “Shut up, shut up, shut up! Just, do this thing for me, Vincey, alright? You’re my little good-luck charm! You’re my little-”

“Alright, alright, I’ll do it.” Vince said, not feeling awake enough to survive the onslaught of pet names. “But only if we get that spot.”

“Oh, thank you Vince! I promise!” Bob Fossil exclaimed. “I’ll text you her address.”

Vince hung up the landline and went to the bathroom, intent to go shower and then put on some clean clothes. Naboo was in the bathroom, shirtless, bent over the sink, epilating his eyebrows. Vince stared at him, and Naboo stared back for a few seconds, before turning back to do what he was doing.

“You didn’t heed my warning.” Naboo said emotionlessly, just as Vince was grabbing a towel. He almost dropped the towel.

“Can you leave? I want to shower.”

“You didn’t heed my warning.” Naboo repeated. Vince groaned. “I didn’t. You’re right. I don’t know what to do with it. Howard’s my best mate, alright? If you want to properly warn me about something, you better actually be clear. None of that shaman nonsense.”

“I am a shaman.” Naboo said. “I can’t just stop being a shaman.”

Vince started taking his shirt off, hoping it would be enough to make Naboo leave the bathroom. But he didn’t. He wasn’t even look at him, still focused on the mirror. Neither of them said anything for a few seconds, until Naboo sighed and faced him. “There have been people going missing all over Dalston, specifically the clubs you frequent. Every night that someone went missing, Howard just happened to be out. It’s not rocket science.”

“What?” Vince exclaimed. “Have you gone completely mental?”

Naboo stared at him through his eyelashes, still as emotionless as always. “I’m not telling you to run away and never talk to him again. Just to watch out a bit more. Maybe it’s all just a coincidence. That's all.”

“I can’t believe you’d say something like that about Howard. You’re a horrible friend, you know that?” Vince said. He was grinning, but it wasn’t a happy grin. He was angry. Naboo shrugged and walked out of the bathroom without saying anything else.

After an angry shower and some dejected hair-straightening Vince headed downstairs. No one-piece suit today, just a shirt with a picture of Joan Jett on it and some black drainpipes. Downstairs, Howard was doing that thing he did when he was stressed, pinching himself on the arm. Vince looked at him doing it for a few seconds, before taking a few extra-loud steps to awaken Howard from his trance and give him a moment to gather himself.

“What did Fossil want?” Howard asked instead of a greeting. He sounded all angry. Had Howard heard what Naboo was saying? Hopefully not, because if he’d heard that, he was probably pissed that Vince hadn’t defended him more. Vince wasn’t sure what to do. It was sweet of Naboo to be worried about him, he supposed. But it was also a real jerk move to accuse Howard of being a murderer. Vince couldn’t even picture him being a murderer. He’d probably go mental if any blood got on one of his corduroy suits, or whatever.

“Oh, he can get us a gig tonight if I do groceries for his mum.” Vince said. Howard furrowed his brow, and then just shook his head, sighing. “Showbiz evidently isn’t what it used to be.”

“People in showbiz do favors for each other all the time. Besides, I’ll do it. You don’t have to come.” Vince said. When Howard was in a mood like this, he wasn’t any fun to be around. So there was no point in taking him with. Besides, Vince needed to think about something. He’d really enjoyed it when Howard called him little man when they were on the couch together. Maybe a bit too much. He hoped it didn’t show in their banter.

“That’s uncharacteristically thoughtful of you, Vince.” Howard said. Vince grimaced. They were back on a first-name basis.

Bob Fossil was from America, and he liked to remind people of this fact. So, if you imagined his mother, you’d probably think of her living in Florida somewhere, in a nice suburb, going golfing every day. However, as she aged, Fossil had her moved to England, to be closer to him, so he, in some twisted way, could take better care of her. But he didn’t actually seem to have the intelligence to have her put in a nursery home. Instead she lived on her own, in a council flat off Dalston. The neighborhood Vince ended up at was a block of brutalist council flats that looked very well-lived in. There were kids playing outside, jumping in puddles and playing tag. It was still a bit cold outside from the previous night’s storm, so Vince wore his hood, which framed his field of vision with bright silver faux fur.

Vince knew Bob Fossil’s mother was not a nice woman. When Fossil was young, his mother used to throw eggs at him when she was cross at him. And his father was not much better. From what Vince had understood from his panicked rants, Fossil’s dad used to do elaborate roleplay scenarios with his wife and son, which always ended in him screaming at the both of them. However, he also knew that Bob Fossil’s mother had dementia, and was probably going to be put in elderly care soon. She was teetering on the edge of being able to take care of herself, and Vince was sure that Fossil would be very relieved the moment she tipped over.

When Vince walked up to the old woman’s door, some of the kids started yelling. Deciding to humour them, he turned around. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s where the witch lives.” a little boy wearing a strainer as a hat said. Vince shrugged. “I have to go in. it’s part of my job.”

He said it extra dramatically, as if he was some kind of noble knight going on a mission to slay a dragon. A few kids gasped. Vince pretended to take a deep breath and then turned around, ringing the doorbell. All the kids hid behind the fences surrounding the place.

There was a bit of noise at the other side of the door, and then the door opened. The woman who opened the door had messy grey hair, which stood completely upright in some spots. She had the same round face Fossil had, and looked completely confused. “Bobby?”

Vince had a bit of trouble with that. He didn’t understand how anyone could confuse him of all people with Bob Fossil. But, he had to swallow his pride. This was all for the greater good. If he just did this, Fossil would get them a gig that night, and Howard would stop being in such a sour mood. Ugh, since when did he do that for other people? He felt like he was going a bit mental.

“Uh, sure. Alright. J’st thought I’d pop over and do some shoppin’ for ya.” Vince said. The woman stood completely still for an eerily long time, and Vince was a bit afraid that he’d broken her. But then she nodded, and started walking back into her house. “Okay. let me get you your bag.”

Vince nervously followed the woman inside, and a kid outside screamed. He decided to close the door behind him.

The house looked like one of those hoarder houses from the telly. There were stairs in the hallway, but there was no way to walk up them, because stacks of newspapers covered every single step. There were some pictures on the walls, of a man and woman together with a small, chubby boy. That was probably Fossil, then.

The woman walked over to the kitchen table, and took a wallet out of a bowl of rotting fruit. She then put the wallet in a plastic bag, and gave it to him wordlessly. Then she had another of her pauses, staring off into space with clouded eyes.

“Um, missus Fossil? uh, ma’am? What am I supposed to get from the store?” Vince asked.

“Curry.” the woman whispered.

“Anything...else?” Vince asked.

The woman paused again, for what seemed like an eternity. Vince heard a clock ticking somewhere in the house. Then, the woman spoke again. “Bin bags.”

“...Bin bags. Alright. Be right back.” Vince said, and walked back through the hallway and outside. Vince dreaded ever growing old. And not just the losing his hair part, either. Even though that was a big part of it. And to be fair, it did make sense. All of the pop culture he consumed, all of the music and said music’s culture all to an extent revolved around youth. To be young and dumb, to get high all the time before it left any lasting impact- it was all very ingrained in the culture. He didn’t know what he would do if he wasn’t part of that anymore. Howard seemed not to care about anything like that. But then again, all his idols were in like, their seventies or so. Still, wasn’t he ever afraid Lester Corncrake would die? How did he accept stuff like that so easily?

At the store, Vince got microwaveable curry and regular bin bags, as the woman hadn’t exactly specified what she wanted. There was a little mom-and-pop store nearby, so he quickly got what he needed, only briefly getting distracted by the magazine aisle. Plastic accessories were coming back. Good to know. After finishing up at the store, he walked back to the woman’s house again and rang the doorbell. None of the kids from earlier were still outside.

The door opened and it was like a completely different woman answered the door. Her eyes were no longer empty, and her posture had seemingly corrected itself. She stood proud and happy and gazed upon Vince with eyes full of affection. “Ah! You must be Vince, Bobby’s little friend.”

“That’s right, ma’am.” Vince said, and he allowed the woman to lead him inside. The inside of the house was still messy, but it also smelled really nice, like someone had been baking biscuits. Indeed, when they entered the kitchen, and both sat down at the kitchen table, Vince could see a batch of fresh biscuits through the little window in the oven.

“You must be here for the groceries. Hmm, I swear I had a spare wallet here somewhere…” the woman said, nervously looking around her. Vince stopped her. “You...already gave me the wallet. I was here about a half hour earlier? You told me to get curry and bin bags, r’member?”

The woman looked very confused, and then a bit crestfallen. “I don’t remember that at all, pumpkin. I’m sorry. Sometimes I get so confused, and when I’m back, suddenly a whole day has gone by.”

Vince didn’t really know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. The woman took the groceries and put them away. After that, she took the biscuits out of the oven. They smelled amazing, but the situation remained a bit grim. Mrs. Fossil asked how her son was a few times, and Vince replied that he was just fine every time. After a while of (admittedly comfortable) silence, he was just going to stand up and leave, when the old woman stopped him.

“You look worried, pumpkin. Is something on your mind?” she asked, with as much compassion and sweetness as a million tiny grandmas packed into one.  
“I guess so.” Vince sighed. “My best friend’s been acting well weird lately. He’s all tense all the time and he’s always away.”

“Oh, dear.” the old woman said, and put one bony little hand on his shoulder. “Have you talked to your little friend about this?”

“We don’t really talk about things. We just kind of know already, I s’pose. I never need to tell him anything. Well, I usually don’t.” Vince shrugged. The woman gave him a sad look.

“You should tell him.” the woman whispered, driving her point home by squeezing his shoulder uncomfortably. “Friendships like these are to be cherished and taken care of.”

Yes, a friendship. For a moment Vince remembered that time on the roof, at Howard’s birthday party. When Dennis had charged at Vince, asking him if he had been making out with his wife. Vince, in a panic, had grabbed Howard and kissed him. Howard’s first ever kiss. Neither of them had mentioned it since. Neither of them had dated anyone since.

Vince loved Howard a lot. It wasn’t even necessarily a romantic thing, it felt deeper than that, somehow. Everything Howard did, no matter how embarrassing, Vince found it endearing. He still made fun of Howard, obviously, the same way Howard made fun of him. But that was just what they did. There was nothing he liked more than to lounge on the couch, Howard by his side, listening to some lame story about a jazz musician’s youth. 

“Thanks, Mrs. Fossil.” Vince finally said. The woman happily scurried off to continue working on her next batch of biscuits.

On his way back to the shop, Vince called Fossil and told him the groceries were done. With Fossil satisfied, Vince hoped to get a bit more rest before they had to perform that evening. They had a great new song about cereal that was sure to be a hit at the Velvet Onion. Sadly, Howard seemed to be even more pissed now that Vince was back at the shop.

“I’m losing you, you know.” Howard said just after Vince closed the door behind him.

“You what?” Vince asked, tilting his head in confusion.  
“I’m losing you to Bob Fossil.” Howard said. Vince furrowed his brow, and Howard continued. “The band is pretty much falling apart. You’re never even home anymore. We never have band practice. You’re either with him or getting drunk in some club.”

“He’s our boss, pretty much, you know? If I don’t do this stuff for him he won’t give us any gigs! I’m doing more for the band than you are, if I’m being honest.” Vince exclaimed. He was getting a bit pissed off about Howard’s attitude. What had Howard been doing for them lately? “It’s not like you’re ever home!”

“I have a reason not to be here. I’m a busy man, Vince. I have dreams. I have aspirations.” Howard sneered. “You don’t have any dreams. You’re perfectly satisfied the way you are right now. Never doing any work, always complaining, always off getting drunk or high or what have you. Remember when we were going to college? I warned you! ‘Don’t go into fashion, you’ll never do anything with it.’ That’s what I said. And look at you now. Nothing. Dead end job in a store.”

Vince was seething. He didn’t even know what to say, that’s how mad he was. With his hands clenched into fists, and his voice shaking slightly, he said, “Now you’ve gone too far.”

With that, he walked straight past Howard and upstairs. Nevermind the store, or their gig that night. He wasn’t going.

* * *

The time of their gig came and went, but Vince didn’t move from his bed. First, he’d been angry. Then, he cried until there was mascara all over his face. After that, he felt better, and laid on his bed for a bit more, this time while listening to some depressing indie music. After that, Bollo knocked on his door and asked if he wanted to smoke with him and Naboo, and Vince decided to join them, because otherwise he’d just end up laying in bed all night.

Howard had left a long while ago, Naboo said, and offered Vince a drag of his hookah. Vince declined, and leaned back against the couch. Howard was probably doing the gig on his own, then. A bit of anger-icing on the cake of fights. He was probably going to be booed off the stage, too, because Vince wasn’t there. Because like it or not, Vince was the face of their band.

Ugh, and that was just gonna lead to Howard coming home even more pissed. Vince really didn’t know what to do anymore. Maybe Naboo knew something. Some… potion, or something.

“Naboo?”

“Hm?” Naboo asked. He was sitting on the couch, cross-legged, holding the hookah pipe’s mouthpiece in his one hand and a magazine about magic in the other. Bollo was looking at what looked to be a nature documentary on TV.

“Listen. Do you have any… potions, or something, that’ll help with friendship?” Vince asked. Naboo slowly turned towards him with heavy-lidded eyes. “What?”

“Well, me and Howard ’ve been fighting, and, I dunno what t’do anymore. He was really outta line, but I still have to work shifts with ‘im, y’know?” Vince asked. He yawned.

Naboo nodded slowly. “Friendship potions fall under love potions, which are illegal under shaman code. Technically, that is. But, since we’re friends, and if you promise not to use it on anyone other than Howard…”

“I definitely won’t let you down, Naboo. Cheers.” Vince said.

Naboo stood up and walked to his room, and Vince followed him there. Naboo’s room was filled with all sorts of knicknacks, kind of like the store, only more spiritual. Naboo opened a cupboard and started rummaging through it, throwing random bottles filled with oddly-coloured fluids onto his bed every few seconds. Luckily, none of the bottles broke.

“What are friendship potions anyways?” Vince asked.  
“Oh, it’s basically a bit of a sedative, and it makes you really social and happy to be around people.” Naboo said while throwing another bottle out of the cupboard onto his bed. “It’s basically weed. But I don’t think anyone could convince Howard to smoke, so... here we are. Just put it in his tea or something.”

Naboo held out a tiny red vial. Vince took it and studied it nervously. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Naboo scoffed, laughing. “No.”

He walked back to the living room again, and Vince went back to his room. It was late in the evening, so Howard probably wouldn’t even have any tea until the next morning. He figured he would just shower and go to bed now, and he’d choose whether or not to use the potion the next morning. For now, he stored it in one of the drawers of his vanity. He could still hear Bollo and Naboo in the living room.

He didn’t feel like having dinner, so he just went straight to bed after showering. He turned his lights off, put on a sleeping mask and quickly fell asleep.

When he woke up again, it was because someone was shaking him awake. Drowsily, he took his mask off. It was completely dark in his room except for the light of the almost full moon. The moon illuminated his vanity, the foot of his bed, and Howard, who had just been shaking him awake. He looked crazed, eyes wide and smiling. There was something on his face, some dirt or something. Vince tried to wriggle out of his grip, but Howard didn’t let go.

“Little man! Wake up! I’ve got something to tell you.”  
“Hmm? ‘Oward?” Vince whispered. He yawned. Howard kicked his shoes off and sat down on the bed with him. Howard was cold all over, so in his sleepy state, Vince threw the duvet over him, which Howard seemed to happily accept, sharing it with him.

“We don’t have to fight anymore. Everything’s okay now. Bob Fossil is gone.” Howard excitedly said. Vince slowly sat up. “What d’you mean? Where’s he gone off to?”  
“No, he’s not- he died, little man. He’s… I just heard about it. He’s dead.” Howard explained.

“Oh, christ.” Vince said, wrinkling his nose. He rubbed his eyes, trying to get himself to wake up. “Were you just at the Velvet Onion?”

“Uh, yeah.” Howard said, sounding nervous. “You- You didn’t come to our gig.”

“I’m sorry, ‘Oward. I was mad, cos of the thing you said about fashion school, ‘n all. I hope you didn’t end up having a really lame gig all by yourself.” Vince said. Howard was against him, arm around him. “It’s fine. It never ended up happening. I was there, and he wasn’t around, so everyone was looking for him, because nobody else knew the lineup. And then they found him. All… cut open. It was grizzly.”

“Gross.” Vince said. He leaned back against Howard. He was starting to get less cold. He must’ve walked from outside straight to his room. “Did’ya see the body?”

“Yes, sir, as a matter of fact, I did.” Howard said. “He- well, the killer, could’ve been a she of course- cut him up from his throat all the way to his... well, you know. But. Let’s look at it positively, you won’t have to do any more jobs for him!”

“We’ll have to find a new guy.” Vince pouted. Howard shook his head, and Vince felt it through their hug. “We don’t have to. Not for a while, at least. We can just… focus all of our energy on finding our new sound, and… maybe we can get out of here for a while. Just me and you. What do you think?”

Vince definitely wasn’t awake enough to make any big decisions. He laid back down on his bed, and threw the duvet over his face. “I dunno.”

“Well, er, just sleep on it for now.” Howard said. “We’ll talk in the morning. I want to have a nice, hot shower.”  
“Yeah, you better shower. You’ve got something on your face.” Vince pointed out, before ducking back under the cover. Howard touched his finger to his face, and then licked his finger. “...right.”

Howard left his room again, and Vince tossed and turned for a bit before falling back asleep. Well, at least they weren’t fighting anymore. Vince didn’t like Bob Fossil either, but he wasn’t horrible, either. It still sucked that he died. Vince wondered who was going to tell his mum, if anyone was even going to tell her. If she would understand, with her dementia and everything. Or if they’d tell her, and she’d just forget right after, and nobody would be there to do groceries for her.

The next morning Vince looked at the tiny bottle in his vanity for a long moment before walking away from it, shrugging. Howard was at the kitchen table, newspaper in hand, drinking his tea. Fully dressed already. And then there was Vince, walking in in his pyjamas and without any makeup on. Bizarro world, basically. He strolled over to the fridge and stared into it for a moment, before closing it again, and going for the toaster. He put a slice of bread in it, and then slid into a seat opposite Howard.  
Howard looked happy. Really, really happy. So happy that it made Vince a bit nervous. He was all relaxed, reading his newspaper and humming something to himself. Had he really hated Bob Fossil that much?

“So, d’you know if there’s gonna be a ceremony for Fossil?” Vince asked. Howard sighed. “I don’t know. Why do you care, anyways? You two weren’t close.”

“I still knew him.” Vince exclaimed, a bit louder than intended. “I’m worried about his mum. She has dementia. That’s bad.”

“Oh, right. The old lady you did the shopping for.” Howard said without really paying attention. “How is she?”

“I don’t know, that’s the point.” Vince said. His toast popped out of the toaster, and he stood up to go spread some jam on it. “I think I’m gonna go over there, see if I can help.”

Howard gave him a look, but Vince shrugged it off. “Just cos you hated Fossil, doesn’t mean that lady did anything wrong. She’s all old and confused. She can’t help it.”  
Howard nodded slowly. “That’s thoughtful, Vince. I can’t forbid you from going over there.”

“Alright, cheers.” Vince said, a bit awkwardly. He took a bite of his toast. “I think I’ll just see if anyone’s broken the news to her, maybe do some shopping for her if she needs it.”

Vince was halfway across the room, piece of toast held between his teeth, when Howard spoke again, an off-hand comment while he read his newspaper. “You haven’t dressed up in a few days.”

“What?” Vince asked. He had to admit Howard was right. He’d dressed up a bit when he was going out with those mates the day he met Howard in the alley, but all he’d really done was put on a fluorescent jacket and some eyeliner. Really, truly getting dressed up- makeup, trendy clothes, maybe a wig- was something he hadn’t done in a few days. Feeling in the mood for some mischief, he decided to prod Howard a bit further. “Why, d’you like it when I do that?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Howard said, and then continued a bit nervously, “you… you always seem to be really happy when you do it. I don’t want Fossil’s death to put you out of it forever.”

Vince thought about it. “Well, I wasn’t exactly close with ‘im. But it’s still well sad that he died.”

Howard made a kind of humming noise, and Vince saw it as his cue to leave. Back in his room, he thought about what Howard had said. He was happy that Howard wasn’t mad at him anymore, so maybe he could dress up a bit to make him happy. Somewhere back in his mind, it registered as weird that his platonic, self proclaimed straight friend was asking this of him, but he ignored it.  
He decided not to go with anything too androgynous, as Mrs. Fossil could get confused. But, he put on his favourite red shirt, the one with the puffy sleeves, and black jeans with chains hanging off the sides. The shoes to go with this outfit were obviously his red knee-high boots. Finally, he put in some fake earrings, and the outfit was done. Satisfied, he put on a jacket and walked back to the living room, with the intent of going downstairs. Howard was stil sitting at the dinner table, having finished his eggs and grapefruit. When he saw Vince, he nodded appreciatively, which made Vince oddly giddy, even if it could also be explained away as just nodding him goodbye.

The council estate was yet again filled with kids playing on the streets, throwing balls at each other and hula-hooping. One kid yelled that Vince looked like a lady. Vince ignored it.

It was silent in front of Mrs. Fossil’s house. Nobody was ringing her doorbell, ready to tell her the news, and nobody seemed to be inside of her house, either. Vince began to have second thoughts. Was he really up to this? Telling some poor old lady that her only son had died? It was a bit morbid, even for him. Maybe he hadn’t cared if they hadn’t met beforehand, but they had. She had baked cookies for him. It was all a bit too personal now.  
Deciding not to hesitate any longer, he rang the doorbell. Mrs. Fossil took a very long time to open the door, and when she saw him, she looked confused. “Who are you, pumpkin?”

“Vince Noir?” Vince said, though it sounded more like a question. “I did your groceries yesterday, ‘member?”

The old woman was still squinting at him like he was a complete stranger. She slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry, darling. I don’t remember. Come in, though. I was just about to have lunch.”

Vince followed her inside and closed the door behind him. It still kind of smelled like biscuits inside, and indeed, when they sat down at the kitchen table, he found the cookies in an open cookie tin in front of him. Mrs. Fossil walked into the kitchen and started rummaging with one of the packages of instant curry, puncturing holes in the plastic on top and putting it in the microwave for a few minutes.

“Did Bobby send you?” Mrs. Fossil asked, and smiled. “He’s such a sweet boy. He’s in the army, you know. Vietnam. He’s fighting for our freedom.”

“Right.” Vince said, offering a sympathetic smile. He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t. He couldn’t tell this nice old lady that her son was dead. “Uh, yeah. Fossil sent me. He… wanted me to ask if you needed any more shopping done?”

Mrs. Fossil clutched a hand over her heart and smiled. “He is so caring to me. He’s really… really sweet, you know? I used to be so mean to him, and I feel so horribly about it. He… his… Bobby’s father was a very strict man, so I ended up being very strict to Bobby as well, so his father wouldn’t be cross with either of us. I hope I’ll be able to make it up to him one day, when they finally let him come back home.”

Vince felt downtrodden. Bob Fossil would never know that his mother cared for him like this. Although, even if she was able to tell him, Vince wasn’t sure if he would believe her. Fossil always seemed afraid of her, even when he was an adult.

“Do you need any shopping, Mrs. Fossil?” Vince asked again. Mrs. Fossil snapped out of her reminiscing, and shook her head. “Oh, heavens, no. A very nice boy came by yesterday and did all of my shopping for me.”

The microwave dinged, and Mrs. Fossil stood up to take her curry out of the microwave. Vince stood up as well, about ready to leave. After this, he kind of wanted to walk by the Velvet Onion, to see if anyone he knew was there when it happened. Mrs. Fossil seemed almost entranced by her microwave curry, so he just stepped out of the room, and when he didn’t hear any protests from her, walked through the hallway and outside.

It was still kind of rainy outside, but definitely not as bad as that night a few days ago. Still, there was some dripping from drain pipes and the like, filling his scenery on his walk from the flats to the nightclub. Nobody was waiting outside yet, but that made sense, as it was a nightclub after all, and it was the middle of the day. The artists’ entrance was open, as it always was, so he just walked in, and decided to snoop around a bit.

Police tape was surrounding the door to Fossil’s office, but he was still able to see into the office a bit through a crack in the door. There was a big stain on Fossil’s desk, and tape surrounding his desk chair. Vince assumed he’d died sitting in his chair, then. That was a bit morbid. If you sit in a chair all day, you probably don’t think someone will ever come up from behind and kill you. What had Howard said again? He was ripped open from neck to crotch? That was especially painful, Vince assumed. How do you even do that to someone without anyone noticing?

It was a pretty seedy nightclub, so there weren’t really any cameras, except in the bathrooms. Still, you’d think nobody would be able to get into the boss’s office without anyone noticing. Okay, now Vince’s interest was officially piqued. He had to ask someone. Maybe the janitor had seen someone coming in?

And the janitor just happened to be mopping the big floor downstairs when Vince walked out of the hallway. He slid down the stair railing and jumped down behind the janitor, scaring the shit out of the poor guy.

“WHAT- oh, hey Vince.” the janitor said. He was a blond man with a mustache. Vince didn’t remember ever talking to him, but he apparently knew Vince by name.  
“Hey… Terry.” Vince said, reading the name off the man’s jumpsuit. He didn’t seem particularly offended, so Vince assumed it was the right name. “I have a question for ya.”

“I have one for you first.” Terry said, quickly adding afterwards, “If that’s alright.”

“Uh, sure?” Vince said. Maybe Terry was a fan, and wanted an autograph. That’s how he knew his name, then. That made sense.

“Why didn’t you come by last night? Everyone was all suspicious that only Howard showed up.” Terry said. 

Vince sighed. “Me an’ Howard were fighting. So he went alone.”

“Must’ve been a bad fight then.” Terry said. “He was all frantic. It was almost scary, I swear. Oh- and he had a nosebleed. Did you punch him? That’s wild.”

Vince frowned, and shook his head. “I don’t remember punching him. But anyways. Did you see anything last night? Any suspicious people entering Fossil’s office?”

“Dunno.” Terry said, shrugging. “Yesterday was a really weird day. Hectic, that’s the word I’d use. The main act were bitching about us bringing them the wrong flavour mints, and one of the side people cancelled. I think Howard found him. He found Fossil, I mean. He just… screamed out loud, and everything kind of went mad. Madder than it already was.”

“Alright. Thanks.” Vince said. Terry shrugged again, and turned around so he could continue mopping the floor. “No problem.”

Vince didn’t really know who else to ask questions, since nobody else was really around, so he decided to go back home. The weather was kind of nice outside anyways. Maybe he could move his leather chair into the back garden and just kind of lounge all day, if he wasn’t needed in the store. Although, even if he was needed in the store, there probably wouldn’t be any people coming to the store anyways, so it wouldn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.

On his way home, he saw Lester Corncrake, of all people, sitting on a bench in the sun. Vince sat down next to him without thinking, deciding to humour Howard’s weird friend a bit before going home. “How are ya, Lester?”

“Huh? Who’s that?” Lester asked, turning around wildly. Vince sighed, rolling his eyes. “It’s me, Vince. Howard’s best mate?”

“Oh, Howard. Yes, alright. Hello Vince.” Lester said, and visibly relaxed. “How is Howard, anyways?”

Vince scoffed a bit. Howard had just been visiting Lester, like, two days ago. Were they really that inseparable? “He’s… he’s just fine. Our boss got murdered, like, proper horrifically, so he has a bit of time off now. He’ll probably swing by you even more than he already does.”

“I wouldn’t call once or twice a month much.” Lester said, straightening his sunglasses, which had become crooked when he was moving around so much. “He used to come over at least once a week, but now he only visits for jazz club. He hasn’t even been to jazzercise lately.”

“What?” Vince asked, genuinely confused. Was Lester joking, or was he serious? “He’s always over at yours. Sometimes he even skips work to do some of his weird jazz freak stuff. It’s well annoying!”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Vince. He wasn’t with me.” Lester said. “If I didn’t know Howard any better, I’d think he was falling out of love with the music!”

“Impossible.” Vince murmured. Lester guffawed. “You’re telling me!”

Vince sighed and buried his face in his hands. This just about ruined everything about his and Howard’s friendship. Why would he lie all the time? What was he doing during that time? Who was he even hanging out with? “I’m gonna ask him what he’s really been doing, Lester. I’m really cross, now.”

“Well, don’t tell him you got it from me. He’s changed, Vince.” Lester said.

Vince sighed. “That’s what Naboo said, too.”

* * *

Vince stood up from the bench and started making his way home, leaving Lester Corncrake on his own. He was angry, and confused, but most of all sad. Howard had been lying to him. Vince and Howard could be right bastards to each other- they could have satsuma fights and call each other the worst names known to man, but they didn’t lie. They understood each other. They were very different, but still lined up perfectly. Vince was the bright, burning sun, warming everyone up, and Howard was the moon. Cold, mysterious, reflecting back to the sun as if to say see, I see what you’re doing, and I appreciate it.

And Vince appreciated it- he really liked it! Lots of people told him he was cool, or fashionable, or a good salesman, but somehow none of it meant as much as when Howard said it. Howard wasn’t someone prone to complimenting people, but when he did, you knew he really meant it. 

At least, that was what Vince used to think. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Did Howard even like him? Was any of it genuine? Their crimps, their poems, their nights spent fallen asleep on the couch together? Their inside jokes, their… anything?

When he barged into the store it was empty. Vince threw some papers around, hoping he would find some kind of clue, or explanation. But it was nothing but mail for Naboo and some newspaper clippings. A bit out of breath, he ran up the stairs, finding Naboo and Bollo having breakfast. Naboo was sitting on the couch, reading Shaman’s Digest, and Bollo was in the kitchen making scrambled eggs.

“Where’s ‘oward?” he asked, gasping for breath. Naboo frowned at him. “Is something wrong? Sit down.” 

Vince sat down on the couch and sighed. “I ran into Lester Corncrake on my way home, cos I was visitin’ Mrs. Fossil. And… he said he hasn’t seen Howard in a month.” 

Naboo put his magazine down. “But he said-” 

“Yeah. ‘xactly. I’m pissed. I need to talk to ‘im.” Vince bit. Naboo yawned, stretching his arms up above his head. “Well, I did tell you something was up with him.” 

Vince rolled his eyes. “You vaguely told me to avoid him, more like. You didn’t give me any information. Do you even have any information?” 

“Not really.” Naboo confessed. “I’m just as lost as you are when it comes to this. I knew he was leaving the store a lot more than usual, maybe he was working somewhere else. And there were FBI agents in the store looking for him. I don’t know, I didn’t really think about it after that. Being a shaman is a busy job.” 

“Those were FBI agents?” Vince asked, and then shook his head. “Nevermind. Do you know where Howard is? I need to talk to him.” 

Naboo closed his eyes for a second and held his hands out in front of him, drawing some kind of pattern in the air. Then, he opened his eyes again and looked at Vince. “He’s in the basement.” 

“Alright, cheers, Naboo. I’m gonna go confront him.” Vince said. He started walking towards the stairs, but Naboo stopped him. “Vince?”  
“Yeah?” 

“Take that friendship potion with you. You never know when it comes in handy.” 

Vince did as Naboo said, because although he didn’t know in what way it would possibly come in handy, you never really know. He walked downstairs and to the back of the store, where there was a door to the basement behind a big wooden coat rack. Vince never really came down into the basement. It was all damp, which was really bad for his hair, and they really didn’t store anything there anyways. He knew Bollo had a treadmill down there somewhere, but that was the extent of his knowledge of the place.

He walked downstairs, his heels clicking with every step on the concrete floor. The chains on his jeans jingled along with it. The basement was almost fully underground, with a few tiny windows right at the tops of the walls, so it wasn’t completely dark inside. Right now the light was shining right through those little windows, though, and right into Vince’s eyes. He averted his eyes while walking downstairs, and thus didn’t realize that Howard was standing in front of him until he bumped into him at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Woah, there.” Howard said. He sounded angry. Vince swallowed. “Jesus, you scared me.” 

“Why are you down here?” Howard asked, sternly. Vince was starting to feel like he was back in school, and Howard was a teacher scolding him for chewing gum during class. 

“Naboo said you were down here. Why are you down here? And what the hell are you wearing?” Vince asked. Howard was wearing an apron, wellies and cleaning gloves. He’d had goggles on earlier, but they were on his forehead now, making his hair bunch up all weird above it.

“I’m very busy. Why don’t you go back upstairs, and I’ll join you later?” Howard began, but Vince shushed him. “No! No, I need to talk to you. Right now. I’m really mad at you.” 

“Oh, you are?” Howard didn’t sound impressed. Vince straightened his back, but still managed to be shorter than Howard. That was all Howard’s fault though. Nobody should be as tall as he was. “Yes. You know who I ran into just now? Lester Corncrake. He says you only come by once a month or so.” 

Howard was visibly shocked at the mention of Lester Corncrake’s name, but quickly masked it. “He’s a crazy old man, Vince. His memory isn’t what it used to be.” 

“You’re lying, you are.” Vince said, poking Howard in his chest with his pointer finger. “I thought we were best mates! I can’t believe this. What else have you lied about?” 

Howard faltered for a bit, his almost smug face making place for a more worried expression. “I haven’t- listen, little man, I haven’t lied about anything. I… not anything that mattered, anyways.” 

“So you have lied.” Vince said. He swallowed again, his arms wrapped around himself. It was cold in the basement, too. Damp and cold. The worst place he knew. Howard shook his head, trying to reach out to him somehow. But then he seemingly remembered he was wearing those cleaning gloves, and backed off, Vince feeling tiny and stupid. How could he possibly have believed all those lies Howard had told him?

“Listen to me.” Howard said. Vince sniffled, but relented. He didn’t dare meet Howard’s eyes, though. “Good. Listen, everything we do together is real. Everything we went through, the zoo, moving in together, starting a band… none of that was a lie. None of it. The truth is… I’ve been doing some things that I’m not proud of. I didn’t want you to know, since you, well… you’d… you wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore.” 

Vince tried to think of something Howard could do that would permanently ruin their friendship, but he came up empty. Howard already did a lot of things that Vince would consider heresy from anyone else. He didn’t like the Human League. He collected rare stationary. But all of that was fine, because it was Howard, and he was just like that. What could he possibly be doing? 

Vince clutched the vial of friendship potion that Naboo had given him in one of his hands. He still didn’t know what Naboo had wanted him to do with it. He still felt Howard staring at him, so he finally replied. “What have you been doing?” 

“It’s… it’s best if I just show you.” Howard said, sounding dejected. He turned around, to the door on the left. There was another door on the right, which had to be Bollo’s treadmill room. Vince watched in suspense as Howard slowly pushed the door open, revealing a mostly empty room. He held the door open for Vince, and Vince walked in. There were a few more windows in here, too, but they were mostly obscured by grass growing on the outside of the building. If you were on the outside, and weren’t specifically looking for windows, you probably wouldn’t even see them. 

The walls were unpainted, and the floor unfinished. To the left of the door was a closet, and there were a few posters on the wall next to it. Vince vaguely recognized one of them as a setlist he and Howard had been on, back before they had their arrangement with Fossil. Directly under the tiny windows was an empty table that looked extremely dirty. There were what looked like grease stains on the sides, and Vince almost felt sick at the sight of it. Finally, there were a few full bin bags near the opposite end of the room, which smelled like they were full of slightly rotted food. 

Howard closed the door behind them, and grabbed a key from one of his pockets, opening the closet with it. Inside was clearly another one of Howard’s obsessive little collections. There were pictures of a bunch of people, clipped from newspapers and hung up on the closet’s back wall. Underneath each of them was a nail, with something hanging from it. For a picture of some old bald guy, it was a set of keys. For a woman he didn’t recognize, it was an earring. 

“Who are these people?” Vince asked. He didn’t know why he’d started whispering. There was something intense about this collection. Something that made Howard treat it like a tiny museum, even more than he cared for Stationary Village or any of his records. This truly meant something. But not knowing what it was that it meant made it kind of ominous. 

“People from the newspaper, Vince. Remember what everyone has been talking about lately?” Howard asked. “People going missing?” 

Vince remembered. Naboo in the morning, warning him before he went out. Howard reading his morning newspaper. A woman on the street, concerned for his wellbeing. The news guy on the radio, interrupting a Sisters of Mercy song. It had been annoying at the time, right at the good part of This Corrosion. But…

“Why do you have their stuff here?” Vince asked.

Howard seemed unsure. He seemed scared. But there was something else in the air, too, other than the dust and the vague smell of rotten fruit. Vince’s heart was pounding. He still clutched the vial with the potion in his hands, as if it were the only thing that could save him from this situation.

Time seemed to be suspended in gaffer tape, seconds feeling like minutes as he watched Howard’s adam’s apple bob, about to say something. He shivered, again, clenching his hands around the vial. Howard raised one eyebrow and looked down at Vince’s hands.

“What do you have there?” the question was laced with a bit of worry, a bit of ‘does he know.’ But Vince didn’t know anything. All he knew was that something was very wrong down there in the basement, and it had something to do with the way Howard had been acting lately. 

Vince tightened his grip around the vial, but Howard easily encased his hands in his bigger ones and pried his fingers loose, revealing the vial. Howard frowned, and Vince started to stammer. “It’s- uh, Naboo told me to give it to you. It’s… a rejuvenation potion. Yeah. he said you might want to take it, and th-that you shouldn’t be offended or anythin’.”

Howard stared at him. Vince gulped, and tried to keep his breathing even. Howard then grabbed the vial from his hands and studied it, finally nodding and taking the cork out.

“You… won’t tell anyone about this, right, little man?” Howard asked, voice soft. Vince breathed a sigh of relief, and nodded. “Of course.” 

He watched as Howard took a sip of the drink and then swallowed it. Then another sip, and another. Vince still had his hands clenched together where he’d been holding the vial earlier. He was terrified. He was starting to get an idea of what was going on, but he didn’t dare think it, or he was certain he’d go insane.

They stood silently in front of the cupboard for an uncomfortable amount of time. Vince looked more closely at the pictures hung inside of it. Most of them were older men, but there was also a picture of a woman in there. The newest one, on the lower left, was a picture of Bob Fossil. Underneath it hung a tiny keychain in the shape of an elephant.

Howard was nodding slowly, starting to stand up less straight. He looked at Vince, and squeezed his eyes almost shut. “Have you- have you... done something, little-”

Vince shook his head, subtly, afraid. Howard stuck out his hand, pointing his finger at Vince’s chest. “You’ve… you’ve drugged me, haven’t you? You little slag…” 

Vince continued shaking his head, more frantically now. One of Howard’s legs buckled, and he fell onto his knees, slowly rocking back and forth as if he was in a trance. And Vince just watched, as Howard’s eyes finally shut for the last time, and he passed out.

* * *

Vince ran back up the stairs after being nailed to the floor for what seemed like hours. Naboo saw him, mascara streaking down his face, and immediately stopped what he was doing, looking worried. Bollo quickly followed, too. Vince wordlessly led them all down the stairs, not able to trust his own voice. He pointed at Howard’s unmoving body, and at the closet. At the garbage bags, which flies seemed to gather upon. 

He didn’t even remember how he’d gotten out of there, but the next thing he knew he was on the living room couch, covered in a fleece blanket. Someone had handed him a tissue. He faintly heard Naboo and Bollo in the background, silently arguing over something. He felt empty, barely able to blink.

Someone handed a glass of water to him. He took it. The TV got switched on, and Colobus the Crab played while he slowly started to unwind. Naboo was sitting somewhere next to him. Tired, Vince turned towards him. “Has Howard gone wrong?” 

His voice sounded all soft and weird, kind of like he felt. Naboo shrugged. “We don’t know yet. He’s still passed out. Bollo tied him to a chair.” 

“Right.” Vince said. He sniffled a bit. “But… is he a serial killer?” 

“We don’t know.” Naboo confessed. “If he is, he’s really good at it, which is a bit creepy in and of itself.” 

“You don’t seem very surprised.” Vince said. The conversation was a bit surreal. He needed to go to bed.

“Vince.” Naboo said. “I am over four hundred years old. When you’ve seen the amount of shit I’ve seen, you really stop caring.”

“...Right.” Vince said again. He slowly stood up, wary about his head, which was pounding. He walked to his bedroom and collapsed face-first on the bed, not caring about his clothes or his makeup. It was dark outside. One more day, and the moon would be full.

That night, he had a dream. He didn’t remember the dream, but when he woke up, everything felt all dark and quiet inside. Whatever it was, he didn’t feel the need to worry about what was happening with Howard anymore, regardless of whether that was related to the dream in the first place. He just felt empty inside. He took his boots and fancy clothes off, and silently slipped into some sweatpants. When he walked outside, he heard Naboo talking to someone- probably Howard. Bollo was there too, evidenced by a low, guttural hum interrupting the conversation once in a while.

Naboo had Howard tied to a chair in the kitchen, back against the sink. Naboo was asking Howard questions, and Howard was sweating, obviously stressed. Or, maybe someone had thrown water on him. Vince walked into the kitchen, and everyone went silent.

“We’re not opening the store today, just putting that out there.” Naboo said. Vince nodded. That made sense. Bollo was holding a pair of tongs, and held them out towards Howard, menacingly, even though Vince couldn’t think of any way someone could be tortured with tongs.

“Hey, little man.” Howard said, and Vince turned towards him. He wanted to say something, but couldn’t bring himself to. And even if he could, he still didn’t know what he would say. So instead he rubbed his eyes a bit, trying to get the sleep out of them.

“You drugged me.” Howard said, but he didn’t sound very mad at all. He mostly sounded like he was trying his best not to upset him, like Vince was a baby or a kitten, or something. Something small that could get him out of trouble. “It’s alright, Naboo told me what it was. If you... if you thought our friendship was doing that badly, why didn’t you just say? We could’ve…”

Vince stared at him, too out of it to show any emotion. He saw himself in the reflection of one of the glass cabinets. His roots were starting to show. Bollo clacked the tongs together again.

“Can I…” Vince started. Bollo stopped clacking his tongs together. Naboo stared at him, and Vince stared back. Then, Naboo relented. “Alright. A few minutes. But after that, we need to continue our interrogation.”

Bollo and Naboo left the room. Vince stood in front of Howard for a long while, unsure what to do. Finally he just sat down on the floor, right in front of him. He stretched his arms and yawned, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them again, hoping the sight in front of him would suddenly be replaced with a view of his bedroom ceiling, and all of this would just have been one big, confusing nightmare.

Howard looked sweaty and miserable in his chair. There was duct tape sticking his arms to the sides, and on top of that, Bollo had tied a rope around him. His tiny eyes moved from side to side erratically as he tried to get loose, but it was no use. 

Vince wasn’t all there, he noticed. But he needed some answers. And now that Naboo and Bollo were outside, he felt like he could say things. Things only he and Howard would understand.

“Why?” Vince asked, softly. He sat on the floor in front of Howard, eye-level with Howard’s knees. He still had that apron around him, although it was coming loose at the back. He looked tiny. He looked like a bug.

“I don’t know...it just started. The first time was an accident.” Howard said. His breathing was slightly laboured. “I was...and he…”

“Did it get you off?” Vince asked, frankly. Howard moved back in his chair in shock. Vince still didn’t meet his gaze, staring at his knees. Slowly, he moved his head towards Howard’s legs, and leaned against them. Howard didn’t attempt to kick him off, but he seemed to be shaking.

“I don’t know. It… gives a certain thrill, to… to take something like that from someone. To… be intimate with them in that way.” Howard said. Vince inhaled. Howard smelled like cigarettes and dirt. He had no idea Howard had started smoking again.

“You could’ve just hired a prozzie.” Vince said. Above him, Howard exhaled slowly. “It was never my intention. I just… got caught up in it. I know that’s a bad excuse, but that’s all I’ve got, little man. I’m sorry.” 

Vince nuzzled into Howard’s leg again, rubbing his forehead against the slightly moist pant leg as if it would relieve his persisting headache. He didn’t know if it was because of how weird his brain was acting, but if anything, he felt relieved. That his and Howard’s relationship wasn’t built on lies, that was. This hadn’t been going on that long, a few months at most. Howard was just a fucking mental case. 

“I’ll stop. I’ll stop from now on, alright? I’ll never do it again. Let’s go away together for a while. Then, when we come back, we can act like none of it ever happened.” Howard pleaded. And Vince was tempted.

He and Howard could just leave. Get away from it all. From Naboo and Bollo, from the cops, from the basement, from Fossil and aprons and plastic gloves. Rent a cabin, like that time with Kodiak Jack, minus the weird elderly rapist. Fuck around in a swamp for a month, catching tadpoles and learning about rare kinds of moss. 

“I don’t know if Naboo will be okay with that.” Vince said. Naboo had said that he’d seen worse stuff in his many years as a shaman. But, he’d also tied Howard to a chair. So Vince really didn’t know where Naboo’s limits were. 

“We can leave at night. He doesn’t have to know. We don’t ever have to return here. We can travel the world, doing gigs at bars. The tour life. You and me. How does that sound?” Howard said, his voice hopeful. Vince curled around Howard’s legs even more, pressing his cheek against the rough texture of his corduroy pants. 

It all sounded nice, and Vince hated himself for feeling that way. He heard Naboo and Bollo talking outside in the hallway, suddenly snapping him back into reality.

“I gotta go. They’ll… they’ll get worried.” he said, quickly adding an “I’ll come back soon.” 

He stood up and walked out of the room, rubbing his face to get rid of the itchy ghost of corduroy. He must’ve looked downright miserable, as Naboo looked worried when he walked outside, but thankfully didn’t press him about his emotional state any further. “What did he say?”

“He says he’ll stop.” Vince said, wishing it would be enough for Naboo. But Naboo didn’t seem satisfied. “He’s still dangerous. Maybe I should bring him back to Xooberon. The Xooberon prison system is very different. They’ll put him in a cage in the middle of a forest, and they’ll give him musical instruments.” 

Vince frowned, wondering if Naboo truly thought that was a better alternative to Earth prisons. He had seemed very serious, but then again, that was the way he always seemed. Vince could never really tell when he was kidding. Bollo was now studying the tongs he was holding intently, as if he’d only just noticed he had them.

“You can’t take him to Xooberon. I’ll never see him again.” Vince protested. Naboo looked him in the eyes so intensely Vince had to look away. “You love him, don’t you.” 

Again, Naboo’s voice was completely monotone. He maybe even seemed a bit annoyed. Vince spluttered a bit, but whatever he said, it wouldn’t sound good. He crossed his arms. “You can’t take him to Xooberon.” 

“Alright, I’ll look at some alternative options.” Naboo said, exasperated. “Now go shower or something. You stink. Plus, me and Bollo still need to talk to ‘im.” 

Vince shrugged, arms still crossed like he was giving himself a hug. He begrudgingly had a shower, and put on clean clothes afterwards. He’d gone wrong, he realized. Howard had killed multiple people, and Vince didn’t even care. He just wanted everything to be like when they were younger again. When they had that shitty job at the zoo, being yelled at all day for barely any money. Howard had been the big man at that place. He was the best at everything. And Vince had been content being his sidekick.

At nights they used to put all of their blankets on the floor and sleep there together instead of in their respective beds. Neither of them ever mentioned it, they just did it. At first, they wouldn’t touch. But as they got more familiar with each other, they allowed themselves more and more, and eventually Vince would wake up safely tucked in Howard’s arms.

But when the zoo shut down, they both got new beds, and in the confusion of moving they never did it again. 

Oh, Christ.

Vince was in love with Howard.

The realization hit him like a car hit that one lion that escaped, the one he and Howard had been forced to clean up afterwards. Was he _really_ that guy? The guy who would excuse murder if it meant he could suck someone off, or something?

He contemplated going back to bed. He couldn’t quite focus. His head hurt, and the whole house was oddly bright. Maybe some ibuprofen first. He’d need a glass of water. But water came from the sink, which was behind Howard in the kitchen. Lovely, lovely Howard. He found himself entering the living room again, sliding into the frame with a plastic cup of water in his hands. Next, ibuprofen from the cupboard. The next moment he found himself somehow on Howard’s lap, Naboo and Bollo nowhere to be seen. They’d probably left, he didn’t remember. He didn’t remember if he’d taken the ibuprofen, either.

“What is it like?” Vince asked. He’d propped himself up on Howard’s lap, horribly inappropriate in any situation except this one. His face was leaning against Howard’s shoulder, his nose towards his neck. Vince had wrapped himself around Howard like a spider monkey.

“What’s _what_ like?” Howard whispered back. The dim light in the living room only made the situation more intimate, somehow. Vince knew he was overstepping some boundaries, but he’d stopped caring a while back. It was no use, anyways.

“Killin’. Takin’ someone’s life. What’s it like.” Vince asked, blowing hot air towards Howard’s throat. Howard shivered. “It’s… it’s thrilling.” 

Vince hummed, pressing his lips against Howard’s throat. Just lightly. Just a peck. Howard gritted his teeth, then exhaled all slow, like he didn’t want Vince to hear. He continued. “It’s like… there’s this whole life in front of you. A human person. Someone who has done countless things, loved people, hurt people, just… existed. And you stand there, and you take it all away. The… the power you hold over someone. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.” 

Vince used one of his hands to grab at the curly hair by Howard’s nape. He played with the curls a few times, winding them around his fingers. He supposed there was something to say about how Howard always felt powerless, how this was the only way he could ever feel stronger than someone else. But Vince didn’t know how to say any of that, and he couldn’t think of a reason to do so, either.

“Yeah? D’you like it?” Vince asked. Howard made a noise somewhere in the back of his throat when Vince pulled on his hair a little harder. He wasn’t sure if they were talking about the killing or the hair-pulling anymore. He wasn’t sure if he minded.

“I do. Or, I did. Regrettably.” Howard said. “But I’m going to stop. For your sake.” 

Vince bit his lip, and inhaled, overwhelmed by Howard’s smell. He smelled nice. Comfortable. “You don’t hafta.” 

Life was overwhelming him. The only thing grounding him was the side of his thigh curled around Howard’s back, around the chair he was in. Howard’s beginning beard scratching against his forehead when he sat up. “Does it get ya hot?” 

Howard didn’t give a clear answer. Instead, he swallowed heavily, moving his head backwards. But Vince immediately moved back in, hungrily. “Are you… alright, little man? You’ve been very affectionate all day. Now, we both know that joke we have, the, ‘don’t touch me, aaaah’ thing, and I get if you’re getting back at me for that right now, but-”

Howard sounded normal. Vince liked normal. He wanted normal back. He pressed his nose against Howard’s throat again, eyes clenched shut. “I just want all of this to go away. Naboo wants to send you to Xooberon, to be put in front of the council of shamans and… put in a cage, or somethin’. Everyone’s acting so weird. Can we pretend it’s all normal again?” 

Howard sighed deeply, sounding relieved. “Of course we can. Of course. But… how? How do we get away from Naboo? We won’t survive jumping out of the second story window.” 

Vince reached behind Howard’s chair, finding his hands and grabbing them, squeezing them once before moving on to untie the rope around his hands. The rope part was easy, but the duct tape stuck uncomfortably to Howard’s skin, and when Vince tried to get it off him, it stuck to his hands, too. Above him, Howard was rambling about something, probably about how any way of escaping he could think of was impossible to actually perform. Obviously, there were only two ways to go. Either they had to convince Naboo to let Howard go, or they had to trick him, so he didn’t know that Howard was gone in the first place. If they ran and hid, Naboo would just be able to find them. 

Vince stopped working on the duct tape, and reluctantly moved away from the comfortable warmth of Howard’s lap. “Stay here,” he said, “and tell me what Naboo’s plan is when I come back, yeah?” 

“Why?” Howard asked, sounding scared. The way he sounded when he begged for his life, when he told people _don’t kill me, I’ve got so much to give_. “What are you going to do?” 

“I dunno.” Vince whispered, and leaned in one more time, pressing his lips against Howard’s cheek, then pulling back. He admired the confused look in Howard’s eyes, then took his leave, leaving Howard even more rumpled and confused. Vince decided he liked that. “Just stay put, alright?” 

“Yeah, alright.” Howard replied. Vince left the room, this time in a hurry. Vaguely, he noticed that he passed Naboo by as he walked, but they didn’t talk. Vince went to his room. He wanted to dress up nice. For Howard, because he’d said he liked it when he got all feminine. He was the confuser, alright, but neither of them were confused about it this time around. At least, that was what he hoped. 

He had a dress, a tight, white lace thing, almost too soft to wear as anything other than a nightie. When he put it on, it pressed tightly against his hips, accentuating what little curve he had. It was a bit see-through by his stomach, showing a hint of his happy trail. With that, he put on his white boots, the ones with the big heels. It was pretty. He felt extraordinarily pretty in this. However, that might just have been because it was for Howard. 

Vince didn’t recognize the person in the mirror. His hair was all drab, probably from when he’d gone into the basement. Maybe he’d curl it, just a bit. He usually never did that. His hair was naturally slightly wavy, but he’d been straightening it for as long as he could remember. But it would look ever so lovely with this dress, with this outfit. He was going for soft. For sweet, for _girly_. Maybe Howard would want him more if he was more like one of those girls he fancied, the type that came into the store and talked about enjoying the odd jazz song. 

He shaved his legs in the shower, perched on the side of the bath. He only cut himself with the razor twice, not even noticing he’d done it until the water started to get pink beneath him. After that, he rinsed off, and put his boots back on, marveling at how much nicer it looked without the little black hairs. All soft and slightly flushed, accentuated by the white of his boots. 

Next there was makeup. Rosy cheeks and soft red lips. Nothing overbearing, but suitably cherubic for the occasion. Howard would like that.

What else would Howard like? He enjoyed jazz music, obviously, but Vince didn’t really know how to give that to Howard. He could try and sing a song, but with jazz, he never quite got the hang of the rhythm. What else? Howard liked organizing things. Maybe Vince could lay himself out, and let Howard put him back together.

The thrill, that was what Howard liked. Of ending the lives of those people he found in the alleyways, drunk, useless to the world. He liked bringing them to the basement and taking their future from them. If Vince could bring him one, just one more, for old time’s sake, he could watch Howard do what he enjoyed so much. Vince could bring him that thrill he lacked in normal life.

It was a wonderful plan. But first, he’d need to get rid of Naboo and Bollo- wait until they went to bed, or off to some other planet- hold on, hadn’t Naboo mentioned that he wanted to bring Howard back to Xooberon, to put him in jail? Maybe, if he’d just…

Vince scrambled down to the shop, retrieving a coffin that Naboo had bought from some shady garage sale. He lugged it back upstairs to his room, and went down again, into the backyard. He started taking tiles from their little garden space and put them in the coffin upstairs until it was heavy enough to feasibly have a human being inside of it. After that, he made sure it was locked well, before finally being satisfied and walking outside. Back in the living room, Bollo was untying Howard and pulling him out of his chair. Naboo stood and watched as Howard tried to get out of the ape’s grip.

“Vince! They’re gonna take me away! Please, say something!” Howard exclaimed as Bollo lifted him over his shoulder. Vince put his hand on Naboo’s shoulder, and Naboo noticeably tensed underneath his touch. 

“Please, Naboo, can I just say goodbye to him? I wanna… I wanna bury ‘im. Metaphorically, I mean.” Vince said, racking his brain, thinking of an excuse. “I think maybe it’s best if I tell m’self he’s dead.” 

Howard gave him a horrified look, but Vince didn’t stop playing his role. Naboo looked up at him through his eyelashes, trying to judge his emotion by the clothing he was wearing. Finally, he rolled his eyes. “You get five minutes.” 

Bollo grumbled something and dropped Howard right back onto the ground. Howard winced in pain, clutching at his leg. Vince pulled him up by his arm and dragged him into his room, kicking it closed behind them. The moment Naboo and Bollo couldn’t see them, Vince dragged Howard into a deep kiss, with Howard awkwardly clutching at his shoulders, overwhelmed and unsure of what to do. Vince grabbed one of Howard’s hands and moved it down his body, past his chest, to the sheer material covering his stomach, and then lower. Howard shuddered into the kiss. Vince licked Howard’s lips, and then pulled back, reveling in just how tiny he was compared to Howard, even in heels. 

“What are you planning?” Howard hissed, and Vince smiled deviously, cocking his hips at an angle. The words he spoke sounded less confident than he’d hoped. “D’you like my outfit?” 

“What- what are you doing? He only gave us five minutes! If you’re planning on doing anything, we have to do it quickly!” Howard said, starting to get loud. Vince jumped back and pushed a button on his CD player, which started blasting loud techno music. Vince walked back to Howard, and removed his apron, pushing the taller man against the wall. 

“I’ve got it under control, ‘Oward, don’t worry. Uncle Vincey’s gonna fix all of this. You just gotta hide, just a bit more. Then, after Naboo’s gone, I’m gonna get you a big surprise, yeah? Just wait.” Vince said. Howard, backed against the wall, looked scared, but nodded regardless. “But, how are you going to convince him to leave without me?” 

“He won’t know it isn’t you.” Vince said, tugging at Howard’s hand again, leading him to where the coffin was lying on the floor. Vince grinned wildly. Howard’s hand was all sweaty. “Told ‘im I was gonna bury ya, like, metaphorically. Cos I’m gonna miss you that much. There’s tiles in there, from the garden.” 

Howard breathed. The music still blared, masking their conversation to anyone trying to listen along outside. “That might actually work.” 

He sounded optimistic. Vince smiled. “See, I told ya. Back to the question, though. D’you like my outfit?” 

The change in atmosphere was enough to make Howard want to humour him. He looked Vince up and down, taking in the soft white lace around his hips and thighs. Vince gave him a cheeky smile and raised his eyebrows. “What do you think?”

Vince could only describe Howard’s expression as hungry, his eyes quickly flicking from Vince’s face back down to his pale stomach. “Did you dress up like this for me?” Howard asked, sounding out of breath. Vince nodded. “It’s part of your surprise.” 

Someone knocked on the door to his bedroom. Vince signalled for Howard to get into his walk-in closet, behind the coats. Howard did so, and Vince skipped back to the door, putting on his best teary eyes before he opened the door.

It was Bollo. Bollo had always loved Vince, so when Vince was the one to open the door, Bollo’s eyes softened, and he nodded at him. “Vince.” 

“Alright, Bollo. Did Naboo go already?” Vince asked. Bollo nodded slowly.

“He’s waiting on the magic carpet.” Bollo said gruffly. Vince nodded. “Okay. well, Howard’s over here.” 

He gestured over to the coffin. Bollo grunted and went over to pick it up. Vince pinched himself, hoping Bollo wouldn’t notice anything wrong about the weight of the coffin. But he didn’t seem to, and silently picked the coffin up with his superior gorilla strength. Vince tiptoed behind him, watching as he walked down the stairs and to the magic carpet in front of the store. Bollo and Naboo talked to one another for a moment, and then Bollo put the coffin down on the carpet, and it slowly started to float away.

Vince breathed a sigh of relief, and walked back to his room. They were free, for now. But they had to move fast. Naboo would find out Vince had tricked him the moment they arrived on Xooberon. So, first he had to prepare the surprise. Afterwards, they could run away together. Into the wild, just the two of them. Finally back together like they used to be.

* * *

Everything was fuzzy around the edges when Vince found himself in the alleyway. It was dark outside. The moon was full, now, so that helped Vince to see. There was nobody around, so he hopped from one heeled foot to the other, holding his handbag tightly against his stomach. 

On the other side of the alleyway, someone started stumbling towards him. Vince walked towards the person, who turned out to be a man somewhere in his fifties or so. He didn’t seem to notice Vince at first, until he drunkenly swiveled around to face him.

“Hello handsome.” Vince said, giddy at the prospect of giving Howard his present. The man squeezed his eyes almost shut, trying to look him in the eyes. But Vince was standing in the dark.

“What was that love? Didn’t catch it completely.” the man spluttered, sounding like he was about to hurl. He moved from side to side on his legs, as if he were on a boat. He took a step towards Vince, and Vince reflexively took a step back. He forced a giggle. “I said, hello handsome.” 

“What’s a n-nice girl like you doin’ out this late at night? Shouldn’t you be at home with your boyfriend?” the man gurgled. Vince bit his lip. A nice girl like him, huh. Something about being able to confuse the man made his stomach tingle. Howard liked _girls like him_. Girls who dressed up for him real nice and got him lots of presents.

“My boyfriend doesn’t treat me right.” Vince said, marvelling at how quickly he thought of that. On top of that, he loved calling Howard his boyfriend. There was something so possessive about it. He liked the idea of Howard being his boyfriend, and Vince being Howard’s boyfriend, or girlfriend, even. Still, he tried his best to sound sad, grabbing a handkerchief out of his bag and pretending to dry his tears with it. The man stared at him, mouth agape. Vince’s next words also seemingly flowed out of his mouth at their own accord. “Would you treat me right, sir?”

The man gasped, obviously aroused at the idea. He took a step back, and was backed against the wall. Vince took a slow step forward. “Y-Yes.” the man said, “I’ll… I’ll buy you a drink. Pretty thing like you deserves to be spoiled.”

Vince laughed a bit again, again feeling that tingling in his stomach. “That’s right. I don’t get spoiled nearly enough. But my boyfriend’s gonna spoil me so much when he sees this.”

“Sees what?” the man asked. Vince took another step forward, the hem of his skirt almost brushing against the man’s stomach. Before he’d left, he’d thought of the best way to incapacitate someone. Obviously, he couldn’t just beat someone up. The risk was too great, even if said person was very drunk. So, the next thing he thought of doing was to slip into Naboo’s bedroom and go through his stuff, until he found some kind of potion, preferably one like the ‘friendship potion’ Naboo had given him earlier. Apparently, you weren’t supposed to give someone more than a few drops. Vince had no idea why Naboo had entrusted him with the whole bottle.

Eventually, he’d found a similar-looking vial with a similar-coloured liquid inside, and just hoped that it would work. He poured some of it onto the handkerchief he’d gotten out earlier, and held it against the man’s face, watching him thrash about a bit more before he finally collapsed onto the street in one big, sad looking pile. Vince looked around again, but there was still nobody else in the alleyway.

The hard part was getting the man to their shop. Luckily, the alleyway was right behind their house, so he took to dragging the man by his arms, probably dislocating the man’s shoulders in the process. Getting him down the stairs was another thing, and Vince carefully tried to bring him downstairs step by step, until he gave up midway through and the man rolled down the rest of the stairway like a barrel in Donkey Kong. 

Upstairs he encountered Howard, freshly showered and dressed in clean clothes. Vince jumped on the couch with him and kissed him once, sweetly, before getting up again. “Just wait a little bit longer.” 

“You smell like chlorine.” Howard noted. Vince was already halfway to his room, on the way to his closet. A costume change was in order. He got out a chest of old stuff he never wore and dug through it, trying to find what he was looking for. A sexy nurse’s outfit, the kind the girls in teen horror movies wore before getting killed by a guy with a hook for a hand. Honestly, Vince didn’t even remember how he’d gotten it. Probably a halloween gag gift he hadn’t had the heart to throw out. 

It was a short, white dress, with red details. The chest was very revealing, cut open in the shape of a cross. There was also a tiny matching hat, all proper and posh, and it had a little red cross on it as well. Vince put it on, and when he made his way back downstairs, he ran so Howard wouldn’t see his clothes until he came downstairs. He yelled something about how Howard had to wait a while until he came downstairs, but he didn’t wait to hear Howard’s reply, hurriedly running back to where he’d left the man at the bottom of the stairs. Luckily, he hadn’t woken up yet, and Vince was able to prop him up on the table in the basement, and tie his arms to the table so he couldn’t get away. 

The man began to wake up, moving his head and groaning. Vince stood just outside of his field of vision, hands shaking in excitement. He watched as the man opened his eyes and started looking around, getting increasingly frantic. He seemed to realize that he was tied to the table, and began moving his arms around, trying to get free. Vince took a step back, even though he’d triple checked to see if the rope was securely tied. He clutched the syringe that had come with the outfit. It was fake, made out of cheap, thin plastic with some kind of red liquid inside meant to replicate blood. He brandished it as a weapon, even though he doubted it could do any damage.

The man noticed he was there, and made a noise that sounded a lot like a whimper. Then, he seemed to clench his whole face together, deep in thought. When he opened his eyes, he looked angry. Vince hoped Howard would get downstairs soon. 

“I know what yer doing, ya slag. All of you women, bonding together, trying to make me look like the bad guy. Well, I won’t have it.” The man said. Vince furrowed his brow. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He asked. He stared at the man for a few more seconds, trying to decipher his thought processes, but eventually shrugged and gave up, tapping his fingernail against the syringe like doctors did in movies. 

Vince heard footsteps on the stairs and adrenaline rushed through his body. It had to be Howard, because the footsteps weren’t heavy enough to be Bollo’s, nor light enough to belong to Naboo. He was so nervous that he was almost scared. 

Howard came downstairs in his apron and disposable gloves, like he knew exactly what Vince had been planning. It made his knees go weak. Howard knew him so well. He looked at the table, then back at Vince, and stared at him with such admiration that Vince felt like he was going to cry. He jumped up and went over to Howard, kissing him on the cheek. Howard wrapped one arm around him, pulling him close. He looked over to the table, and squeezed Vince’s shoulder. “You’ve done beautifully, little man.” 

Vince shivered in Howard’s arms. He pulled his outfit straight a bit and tapped Howard’s chest, trying to get his attention. “What d’you think of my look?”

Howard looked at him with eyes full of love and kissed him, the softness of his lips making Vince sigh. The kiss deepened, and Vince let himself lean on Howard, heavily, not really trusting his own legs anymore. He felt like he’d been asleep all day, even though he remembered being awoken early in the morning. Everything felt distant, somehow. Just out of his reach. Like he was watching himself do things through a window. Close enough to see all the details, but not enough to affect any of it. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Howard sighed into the kiss, and Vince shuddered, tightening his grip on Howard’s shoulders. He could die at that moment, he realized, and he wouldn’t even mind. Even if being in the basement would make his hair damp, and Naboo was surely going to yell at him the next day. But it was fine. He was in Howard’s arms, hanging on by a thread. Everything was going to be normal again. Howard wasn’t ever going to leave him.

The man on the table was thrashing around, throwing his legs from side to side. Vince was starting to get scared that he was going to flip the table over. Howard repositioned Vince so that he was further away from the table. The man yelled, his face getting all red. “Fuckin’ fuckin’... Let me go already!”

Howard kissed Vince again, once, on his nose. Vince snorted a bit, and Howard looked him in the eyes. He looked so full of affection. Vince stared up at him through his eyelashes. “Are you happy with your surprise?”  
“It’s amazing.” Howard said, scratching Vince’s forehead with his beard as he kissed the top of his head. “You’re amazing.” 

They stood in their embrace for a few more seconds, before Howard reluctantly pulled back and Vince stepped away from him. Those full garbage bags that had been there the previous day were gone now, but the locked cupboard was still there. Howard had a big knife. Vince almost tripped over his own boots. 

Everything was spinning a bit. Vince’s knees felt like they were going to give out. He put one hand on Howard’s back, trying to get support, but Howard was busy, so he didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Somewhere in the distance he could hear Howard asking him if he wanted to watch. He could feel himself walking over, leaning down to look at the man’s face. But no matter how much he peered, he didn’t seem to be able to recognize any of his facial features. The man could just as well have been a rock or a piece of pavement, and he wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference.

He slumped down in one of the corners of the room, and stayed there, his arms wrapped around his legs, chin on his knees. Howard walked around a lot, putting things in bags and wiping things down with wet wipes. A clock was ticking somewhere, and Vince bobbed his head along with it, eyes unfocused.

Howard was standing in front of him, messing around with some garbage bags. Vince wanted to help out, but all he managed was to open his mouth and then close it again, without making any noise. Howard was walking up the stairs. There was a big red stain on the floor that wasn’t there before. Then Howard was back, with a mop.

Howard hoisted him up and brought him upstairs, put him down on the couch. Used makeup wipes to get his makeup off. Took his dress and boots off and gave Vince one of his old pyjama tops to wear instead. Then, he picked Vince up, and brought him to bed, tucking him in. Vince tried to tell him that they had to leave before Naboo came back, but his voice came out all garbled. Howard seemed to understand anyways, shaking his head once again. “Sleep now. We’ll leave in the morning.” 

Vince closed his eyes, and immediately fell asleep. He dreamed of things that didn’t matter much, like the fact that he needed to dye his hair again, because his roots were really starting to show now, and he didn’t want to be forced to wear a hat all the time. And that there were still some films he wanted to see. If they went to a cabin in the woods, it probably wouldn’t have a dvd player, which was a shame. They’d have to buy one if they wanted to finish watching _The Betrayed_. Maybe they could get one of those tiny portable ones, with the little screens. Vince had always thought those were cute.

* * *

The next morning everything felt lighter, like a heavy weight had been taken off his shoulders. Vince could see the light from the sun filtering into his room, shining on his white bedsheet so brightly it hurt his eyes. When he looked in the mirror, he saw himself staring back, the roots of his hair a distracting light brown instead of the usual raven black.

Howard was in the living room, rummaging through cupboards and putting miscellaneous things into a suitcase. Vince let himself fall onto the couch, next to the table with Howard’s half full coffee mug. Howard soon joined him, taking a sip of his coffee before making a face and spitting it back out. “It’s gone cold.” 

Vince gave him a fond look. Howard stuck his tongue out in disgust, but then smiled back, and allowed Vince to crowd up against him, his head on Howard’s shoulder.  
“Are we dating now?” Vince asked, and he felt Howard stop breathing for a second, before continuing. 

“That’s a… difficult question. You did surprise me a bit, yesterday, to be honest. What with the… kissing and all.” Howard pulled a face. Vince furrowed his brow in worry. “You did like it, right?” 

“Yes! I did!” Howard exclaimed a bit too fast and loud, and Vince couldn’t help but snort. Howard was blushing a bit. “It was wonderful. All of it. I wasn’t expecting you to… fall for me, out of all people, but… yes. I enjoyed it. A lot.” 

“Good.” Vince said, cuddling up against Howard’s side again. “B’sides, who else would I fall for? You’re… a freak, obviously, but you’re my freak. And you do a lot of nice stuff for me. Like baking those cakes.” 

“I haven’t done that in a while, either, have I?” Howard sighed, patting Vince on the shoulder. “I really lost sight of what was important these last months. I’m sorry about that. It’ll be a lot different from now on.” 

Vince closed his eyes happily. That was all he really wanted. Everything the way it used to be, back when they worked in the zoo, or before that, when they grew up together. They’d do everything together. Walking to school, chatting about everything and nothing. Howard about his history books or his jazz records. Vince about gossip he’d overheard on the playground, and the new videoclip he’d seen on TV. And later, when they were older, Vince on the couch, upside down. Howard on the floor beside him, their heads next to each other, singing an improvised song about birdseed. 

Howard got up again, Vince whining a bit as his sitting position was disturbed. Howard shook his head. “We have to start packing, little man.” 

Vince got up after him, and clung to his back like a spider monkey. “C’mon ‘Oward… just stay a bit longer.”

Howard sighed in response to Vince’s whining, and Vince smirked, knowing Howard couldn’t deny him anything. Howard turned around, eyes closed, and was about to make some kind of gesture as he talked, but Vince grabbed both his hands and squeezed them together in front of his chest, then stood up on his tiptoes and kissed Howard. A small, closed-mouth kiss. Howard’s mustache tickled his face a bit, and he smiled. 

Howard was looking down at him, his face undecipherable. Vince leaned back in, and kissed him again, this time deeper. He let go of Howard’s hands, and Howard put his arms around him, one hand reaching under the shirt Vince was wearing, and splaying out on his back, making him shiver. Howard’s hands were all cold. Vince shuddered into the kiss, and Howard gladly drank it up, continuing his hands’ trip up Vince’s back and back down to the top of his pants, lingering there for a few seconds before making their way back up. 

They had to break the kiss to breathe, and Vince slumped down against Howard’s chest, eyes closed, focusing on the sensation of Howard’s hands roaming his back. Howard seemed to pause by the waistband of Vince’s pants, contemplating sliding down to grab at his ass, but deciding against it in the end. Vince sighed, and Howard huffed a laugh above him.

Vince pouted, looking up. “C’mon ‘Oward, you can’t just leave me hangin’ like that!” 

“We have to go.” Howard said. Vince groaned, tugging at the back of Howard’s shirt. Howard stumbled back a bit, and they almost fell over together, which in turn made them laugh again.

“It’s very hot out.” Howard said. “So don’t wear anything too warm.” 

It sounded a bit like an order. Vince liked the slight edge to Howard’s words, and smirked. “Yes sir.” Howard cocked an eyebrow, and Vince threw his neck back in laughter, knees bumping against Howard’s as he swung backwards. They remained in each other’s arms for a bit more, until Howard finally pulled away. Vince stood on his own for a few seconds more, before leaving to his room to pack.

He had a habit of overpacking, and this time he again didn’t know what to take and what not to take. If he was really honest, Naboo probably wouldn’t throw all of his stuff out. Naboo and Bollo both loved Vince. And Vince loved them back, of course. Maybe they were mad for now, but he was sure that if he just managed to say the right words, Naboo would allow them to move back in. Vince didn’t think he could do life on the run. His face was too unique. He just wouldn’t be able to slip into a crowd. 

He looked at last night’s outfits, at the white dress and the little hat, and threw his duvet over them. No more of that. That part was over. Howard said he’d stop. They didn’t need it anymore. Even when only taking the basics, one bag wasn’t enough, so he ended up bringing two bags, and an additional plastic shopping bag for a pair of particularly big boots. His room looked a lot sadder now, all empty and unlived in. 

Vince found Howard in the living room, staring out of the window. It was getting bright outside. They really had to go. Vince slipped in behind Howard, arms around the other man’s waist. Howard leaned into him. “Are you done with packing?” 

“Yeah,” Vince said, “D’you think we could squeeze in a bit of hair dying before we leave? My roots are showing.”  
Howard turned around and stared at the top of his head for a while, squinting. “It’s not that bad,” he finally decided, “Let’s just go, and we’ll buy hair dye somewhere along the way.” 

Vince pouted and let go of Howard’s waist. Howard gave him a look, and Vince backed away, arms up in the air in surrender. 

They loaded their bags into their tour van, and Vince only now noticed he looked like the perfect image of a tourist. He was still wearing the oversized shirt Howard had given him the previous night, and he’d put a pair of sunglasses on because it was sunny outside. Howard got into the driver’s seat, and Vince slipped in beside him, yawning. Howard gave him a look, as if he wasn’t the same guy who had told Vince to get ready as soon as possible. Vince stuck his tongue out at him.

As they left the town and ended up on the highway, Vince put the radio on. He vaguely knew the song that was playing, but not well enough to sing along. Instead he hummed, and after a while, Howard started humming along with him. Vince kicked his slippers off and crossed his legs, leaning back in his chair. When the chorus kicked in, he sang all the words he knew, and fell back on humming when he didn’t know. It made Howard laugh, which in turn made Vince laugh, until they were both stupidly giggling, even after the song had ended. 

It was kind of funny in a way, Vince supposed. They had to leave their house, the place they felt most secure at. Yet, now that the two of them were in the van, off to go on some unknown adventure, he finally felt at home.

**Author's Note:**

> While writing this I felt the constant urge to apologize, though I'm unsure if that is because I feel guilty easy or because it actually warrants apologizing. I... hope everyone enjoyed reading it. Please leave feedback, it would mean a lot to me.


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